Cursed
by kwater
Summary: Sam and Dean run into a wave of bad luck and receive help from a friend.  This story reintroduces the Character Sara Powers from Thank You and Goodnight Milton.
1. Chapter 1

Bobby glanced futilely at his watch once more, shit thought the grizzled hunter. Glancing up, he met her stare, feeling like a bug under a microscope, trying not to squirm. It's just when she turned that look on him, the one that made the boys listen and listen close, Bobby couldn't help but be reminded of his own Mom. And, if there's one thing Bobby Singer had taken away from his childhood, it was to never piss off his Mom.

Sara sat across the neatly set table, her focus riveted on the hunter who sat across from her. Chin set; she waited with one brow raised. "He said he'd be here Bobby. Its Thanksgiving and he said he'd be here." If anything, her gaze blazed even brighter. "He's never broken a promise to me. His last words were, I'll see you at three. That was two days ago, now I know you've talked to Sam, I know it, Bobby. So, you might as well fess up and tell me where they are. Because you know I'm going to find out and when I do you'd be better off on my good side."

Bobby swallowed; he was caught between a rock and hard place. He'd promised Sam he wouldn't say anything and yet he knew that the boys needed help. Plus, he really didn't want to find himself on Sara's bad side.

"I don't know much, they were on a hunt and something went wrong. I spoke to Sam two days ago; he figured they'd be here by now. I've tried calling his cell a dozen times since then and all I've gotten is his voicemail." Bobby pulled the brim of his hat a bit lower hoping to cut the glare he was receiving.

"Where, Bobby, did Sam say where?" Sara asked over her shoulder, already moving toward the stairs.

"Greenway, Ohio. They were chasing a poltergeist. Sara, I'm sure they've gotten the job done by now and are probably already on their way back." Bobby tried not to take offense at Sara's disbelieving snort. Glancing toward the living room couch, he saw Sara's three kids, engrossed in a movie about some zoo animals. With a sigh, he headed for the couch and lifted the littlest onto his lap. Knowing that it was no use trying to stop Sara from tracking down the boys, he waited to see how he could help.

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"Jim, I need you too look at me." Sara waited a moment until Jimmy's brown eyes focused on her own. Smiling she rubbed a hand through his hair. "Listen bud, Dean and Sam need help."

Jim's brown eyes filled with worry. "Is that why they missed dinner."

Sara nodded solemnly. "Yes, that's why. Now listen I'm going to go see if I can help them, so I need you to be really good for me."

Jimmy nodded. "I can, Mom, and I'll watch out for Mikey and Jess too."

"That's great, Jim, that'll be a big help. Now Uncle Bobby can only stay here over night, he's got to get back to work, so I called Grandma. She and Pap will be by tomorrow to pick you guys up. Okay, school's out for the week so you won't miss anything." Sara hugged Jim, hard dropping him a wink as she stood.

Sara turned to Michael, drawing him close she whispered, "You watch out for your brother and sister. I love you and I'll miss you. Give Grandma and Pap a kiss for me."

Sara forced back the tears as a tiny pair of arms snaked around her neck. Swinging the baby around, she tickled Jessie until the little girl was breathless. Looking into her blue eyes Sara said, "I'm gonna go get Dean, Baby, you wait here with the boys." Sara watched as the toddler processed her words.

"You get Dee, Now," Jessie said solemnly.

Sara nodded and said, "That's right babe, I'm going to bring him back here to you." Kissing the little girl soundly, Sara turned and placed her in Bobby's waiting arms.

Bobby took the little girl from Sara with a nod. "I'll look after them, until your folks get here. Don't worry, we'll be fine." Bobby smiled down at the toddler that was now batting her big blue eyes at him. "I'm sorry I can't go, but I've got to head up to New York," Bobby said, referring to a job he was working. He'd only just gotten in that morning and he hadn't planned on staying longer than one night.

Bobby watched as Sara headed for the door, it was only as something large nudged him in the leg that he remembered. "Sara, wait what about Jack?"

Sara turned one hand slapping her forehead. "Crap, I forgot about the dog." Sara studied Jack's big brown eyes for a moment. "I can't ask Mom and Dad to take him, they've got enough to worry about."

Bobby shrugged and said, "I'll take him with me, he'll be good company."

"No, that's no good, who knows when we'll see each other again." Sara looked at the dog and sighed. Well at least she'd have company, "Jack, wanna go for a ride?" Sara had to laugh as the dog took off for the kitchen, moments later he returned with his leash hanging out of his mouth. Sara rubbed one of his big brown ears. Heading back toward the kitchen she quickly packed up food, a bowl and some water.

This time she made it to the car without a problem, opening the door to the Jeep, she waited until Jack was comfortable on the passenger seat, his big head lolling out the window. Bobby had followed her outside, Jessie still in his arms.

Sara pressed a kiss to Jess' cheek and one to Bobby's, "My phone's on let me know if you hear from them." Climbing into the driver's seat, Sara turned on the dash mounted GPS. Pulling out of the driveway at last, she couldn't stop the tears that fell.

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Sam awoke to the sound of a groan, sitting up, he stumbled toward the other twin bed. "I'm here, Dean, can you hear me?" Placing his hand on his brother's forehead, he winced at the heat. Moving into the bathroom, he filled the ice bucket that rested in the sink with cool water once again. Moving back beside his brother he began wiping him down, desperate to lower his fever.

As Sam worked, he noticed the changes that had come over his brother in the last three days. Dean's face was so white it rivaled the pillowcase his head rested on, and his eyes were circled with shadows. Shaking his head, Sam couldn't help but think that they'd would have been better never stepping foot in Greenway, Ohio.

_"Come on Sam, it'll be fine. We'll take care of the poltergeist tomorrow and still be on time for dinner at Sara's on Thursday. Trust me there's no way I'd stand up her." Dean had assured Sam, as he parked in front of the Village Green Motel. Coughing into his hand, Dean sighed, "Besides, I'm wiped. There's nothing I want more than to be with Sara and the kids for a while."_

_Sam glanced at his brother not liking how tired and worn he looked. "Alright, Dean, we'll take the job. But this is it, afterwards we're Pennsylvania bound and I'm driving. You look like crap and you're on enough cold medicine to render you unconscious." Sam took a last look at his brother, as he climbed out of the car to check into the Motel. Hunching his shoulders against the sleet that was falling, Sam rolled his eyes. Just their luck, the Impala wasn't exactly the best vehicle to be driving on ice._

The driving sleet should have been Sam's first clue that the job wasn't going to be 'easy'. His second one should have been the night he spent in jail. And the third well that was a toss up between Dean losing the Impala or his passing out in front of the jail. Well whichever it was, Sam knew for a fact that he already hated this town.

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As she finished the incantation, the old woman stood, knees popping, and brushed her hands together. There, she thought, that should stop them from meddling in her affairs. She wasn't happy with how close they had come to discovering her the other night. This time she intended to keep them too busy to stick their noses in other people's business, this time she would be the hunter.


	2. Chapter 2

_After the boys had checked in, Sam had done some background checking into the three deaths. "Okay Dean, near as I can tell three people have died so far over a two year period. One was a realtor that was readying the house for sale. Her name was Trina Clark and her neck was broken, the result of a fall down stairs." Sam looked up to see Dean lying on the bed, eyes closed. "Dude, you with me here?"_

_Dean had simply nodded and gestured for Sam to continue. With a last worried glance towards his brother, Sam said. "Alright well, the next death occurred eight months later. A contractor bought the house intending to renovate it. His first night, he was working on dry walling one of the rooms and he was somehow electrocuted. The police claim it was another stroke of bad luck. It was close to a year before the house went on the market again, this time it was garnering a bit of a reputation with the locals. It stayed on the market for over six months, until about three weeks ago; a couple from New York City bought it sight unseen. Something about wanting to leave the big city life behind."_

_"Well, hell they couldn't have picked a better spot. I've seen movie theaters with more people than there are in this town." Dean sniped, opening one eye to glance at Sam._

_"Yeah, well the husband came out first to finish the paperwork and...Well it seems as if he fell out of a window." Sam sat back from the computer. Rising he moved towards Dean's side._

_"Sam, you put your hand on my forehead one more time and we're going to have a problem," snapped Dean as Sam was rounding the bed._

_Sam glanced at his older brother and considered pushing the issue. Dean's face was covered in a sheen of sweat and he was wearing not only his standard issue long sleeve shirt and flannel but also his heavy blue coat. Knowing that it would only start something he didn't want to finish Sam instead moved towards the gear that was on his bed. Pulling out the Tylenol and a bottle of water he set both next to his stubborn brother._

_Dean sat up. "Thanks." After shaking a couple pills out on his hand his gaze swung back to his brother. "No one's questioning these deaths?"_

_Sam shook his head. "No, and the only reason I can guess is that it's an older house. Supposed to be in pretty bad shape, I guess with no signs of an intruder they've got nothing to go on."_

_"Anyone ever die there before?" Dean laid back down one arm covering his eyes._

_Sam couldn't help but send one more worried glance toward him. "Not that I could find, but there's not much history on the house itself. The only mention I could find other than the three 'accidents' was a blurb in the paper about how the original woman lost possession of it for failure to pay the property tax." Sam stood and walked back to the table, glancing at his notes, he said, "Get this the woman's name was Ida Greenway, apparently her father's family founded the town."_

_"You're kidding me, right. I mean if anyone deserves a tax break wouldn't it be the woman who founded the town?" Dean suddenly began coughing, struggling to breathe he tried to sit up._

_Sam was unable to watch Dean struggle to draw a breath. Long strides had him by his brother's side in a minute. Grasping Dean's shoulders, he couldn't help but notice the heat that was pouring off of him. Propping up the pillows behind him, Sam eased him into a sitting position. Handing Dean the water, Sam once again delved into the first aid kit. Returning with a bottle of cough syrup, he measured out a dose._

_"Can't dude we gotta go see about this house. That stuff knocks me out." Dean put up a hand, to ward off his brother's advance._

_Sam geared himself up for a fight, Dean was in no condition to be running around in the damp night air, chasing some poltergeist. Knowing that his brother wouldn't listen to reason though, Sam backpedaled quickly. "Listen, take the medicine and grab a couple hours sleep, we can't go to the house until after midnight anyway. I'll go grab us some dinner and you'll be feeling better in no time."_

_Dean swore as he looked up at his brother's pleading eyes. Accepting the tiny medicine cup, he drank it down with a grimace. "Fine, Sam, but I'm telling you we're going tonight. I want to put this town in our rearview mirror."_

_Nodding, Sam sat back down at the table and began searching for any more information. Ten minutes later, he glanced over at Dean and was relieved to see him sleeping peacefully. Glancing out at the dark, storm ridden night, Sam made a decision. Sorry Dude, Sam thought, but there is no way I'm going to let you go fight this thing in your condition._

_Moving quietly about the room, he quickly gathered what he needed, and in minutes he was ready to go. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he jotted a note to Dean and left it on the nightstand with the car keys. Stepping out into the cold icy night, Sam hurried his pace. He was on borrowed time and he knew it. _

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Sam once again, measure out a dose of cough syrup, glancing worriedly at the rapidly emptying bottle he calculated he had maybe one more dose. "Come on, Dean, wake up." Putting the cup to his brother's lips, Sam carefully helped him drink the thick red liquid.

Feeling his brother's forehead Sam was relieved that his fever finally seemed to be breaking. "Listen, Dean, we need help. I'm going to step outside and call Bobby, he should be on his way to Pennsylvania by now. I'll see if he can swing by," Sam said the words quickly ready to deflect the rant he knew would be forthcoming. At Dean's weak nod, Sam's mouth literally dropped open.

"Do not go back to that house, Sam, something's going on, and it's not a poltergeist. Call Bobby and make sure Sara knows we hit a snag," Dean rasped, his voice rough from bouts of coughing.

Sam smiled slightly. "A snag, Dean, I think we're well past a snag." Sam was glad to see Dean's white smile flash.

"Yeah, well don't tell Bobby that, he's starting to get a complex as it is. Next thing you know he'll be thinking we can't handle a case on our own." Dean closed his eyes and was asleep in moments.

Sam gathered his coat and what change he had on him and moved out into the early evening. Noting the thin coating of snow that covered everything, he missed the familiar sight of the big black car that was always waiting outside just about every motel room he'd ever slept in. He had asked earlier where the car was but Dean had been nearly incoherent, Sam could only hope that Dean had parked it somewhere in town.

As Sam pushed open the door to the lobby, he noted a pay phone hanging on the wall. With a sigh of relief, he picked up the receiver and dialed 'O' for the operator. Reversing the charges, Sam had the operator connect him to Bobby's cell. As the grizzled hunter picked up Sam quickly laid out what they were up against.

Three minutes into the conversation though and the line went dead, along with the lights in the office. Sam actually banged his head in frustraion. He hadn't finished his conversation with Bobby or gotten around to ask him for help.

Turning, he noted the emergency lights at least lent a reddish glow to the room. Making his way to the desk, he hoped that Dean would simply sleep through the blackout. "Hello," Sam called out hoping that the manager was around.

"What can I do for you, Sonny?" A hunchbacked old man hobbled out of the back office a flashlight wobbling in his hands.

Sam had to stop the snort of laughter, what indeed, he thought, rolling his eyes. Sam pointed up, trying not to curse at the beam of light that kept hitting him in the eyes. "Power and phone shut off."

The old man nodded. "Yup."

Sam gathered his patience and tried again. "Does it go out often, because I really need to make a phone call? Plus my brother's really not feeling well."

"It goes out some. I've got a kerosean heater in the closet you can borrow. You two are the only guests I have right now. As for the phone, can't help you there I don't go in for those newfangled cell thingy's" The old man began making his way back to the office.

Sam placed his hands on either side of the desk and once again cursed this small town and all it's occupants. First, it was that miserable house and its knife weilding occupant, then jail and now this.

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_Sam found himself hurrying down the street anxious to get this over and done with. Not that he was completely convinced it was a poltergeist but if it was the tiny herb filled bags he'd prepared should knock it out in no time._

_It only took about fifteen minutes for Sam to walk to the house. Looking left and right at the well-manicured lawns and prettily painted Victorian houses on either side of the property in question, Sam could only sigh. Dean was right it always seemed as if the houses they frequented were on the verge of falling down. A waist high, wrought iron fence surrounded the property and a gate hung haphazardly in the middle. Looking somewhat similar to the Munster's house, Sam could understand why the community was now talking about condemning the property._

_Glancing up and down the street all appeared quiet. Sam reached out and pushed the gate open carefully. Stepping through he moved in the shadows toward the house. Deciding that the front door was too conspicuous Sam headed to the back of the property._

_In the dark he found two entrances, one was a back door that appeared to lead to a small mudroom and the other was a set of Bilco doors leading down into the basement. Choosing the back door, Sam couldn't help but notice the overly large padlock that was gracing the double basement doors. _

_It took only minutes for him to open the back door, stepping inside he was surprised by the interior. Instead of the broken furniture and skittering bugs, that he had expected to find, it was neat, clean and in generally good repair. He could now see just why the house had sold each time despite its history. With a few renovations, the home would be quite a showplace._

_A glance at his watch showed that he was running on borrowed time. Setting the bag down on the kitchen table, he pulled out a small hand axe and a couple of the bags he had concocted. Heading towards the attic, he decided to work from top to bottom. _

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_Dean awoke in a fog, taking a moment to clear his thoughts, he realized that he actually felt a bit better. He'd been fighting this cold for weeks now, not that he let on to Sammy, knowing that his brother would have quickly gone into Nurse Ratchet mode. Dean's eyes popped open as he realized that he couldn't hear the familiar sounds of Sammy in the room. _

_Sitting up, he immediately noticed the note, next to his keys. Reading it, he sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Determined to be showered and ready to eat by the time Sam returned with the food, Dean headed into the bathroom._

_Dean stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later actually feeling human. His brother had been right a little sleep really had done wonders. As Dean fastened his watch, he noted that it was rapidly approaching eleven o'clock. Nodding in satisfaction, he exited the bathroom expecting to find Sammy and some take-out._

_Instead, he was met with silence, moving towards the window he glanced out at the night. A steady fall of ice, rained from the sky covering the sidewalk and the Impala. Frowning Dean glanced at his watch once more, then at the note Sam had left. Noting that Sam hadn't put a time on it, Dean could only assume that his brother hadn't left the room until shortly before he woke up, that would mean Sammy still had a good ten, maybe even fifteen minutes before he would return. Dean looked out at the icy night once more. Something was wrong he could feel it. Picking up his cell phone, he quickly dialed his brother's phone._

_888_

_Well, thought Sam, as he pulled the door shut, the good news was he had only the basement to complete the cleansing. The bad news was that something was pitching the kitchen knives at him, keeping him pinned inside the pantry door. Placing one bag in the four corners of the house had gone well, on both the first floor and the attic. It had only been as he'd completed the ground floor that things had gone to hell. _

_Sam jumped back as simultaneously his phone rang and a large butcher knife actually penetrated the door. Breathlessly answering the phone, Sam had been relieved to hear Dean's voice._

_"Sammy, where are you?" Dean asked his voice rough and nasally sounding._

_"Hey, Dean, how are you feeling?" Sam asked stalling for time._

_Dean released a pent up breath at Sam's calm reply. "Actually I'm feeling pretty good, the sleep and a hot shower seemed to have done the trick."_

_Sam flinched as yet another large knife hit the door with a thunk. "Good, Good well listen I'm really glad you're feeling better. I, uh, was wondering if maybe you'd come and get me."_

_Dean stood. "Where are you Sam?" Dean asked his senses once again in full alert._

_Sam took a steadying breath and replied, "Well at the moment I'm in a pantry, but I was hoping to make a run for the basement. I mean it's got to run out of knives eventually right."_

_Dean was moving before Sam finished the sentence. "Crap, Sam, you just couldn't wait could you. I'm on my way."_

_Sam called out before his brother could break the connection. "Don't pull up in front of the house Dean; the Impala will stick out like a sore thumb."_

_Dean growled out a few choice curses as he slammed the phone shut and quickly pulled on his boots, grabbing his keys he was still cursing as he headed for the Impala at a run._

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Sara pressed a hand against her tired eyes; she had been driving for six hours, only stopping to let Jack out to pee. The sun was still an hour from rising when she realized that she couldn't go on without a break. Pulling into the parking lot of a gas station, she pulled up in front of a pump and quickly filled up. Opening the passenger side door for Jack, she waited while he jumped down and stretched. Sara called Jack to her side and headed for a bit of lawn by the back of the station. Waiting as he finished, she stretched her arms trying to work the kinks out of her back. Once she was sure Jack was good, Sara headed towards the mini-mart that was attached to the station. Signaling Jack to sit in front of the mart, Sara headed inside.

She took her time, picking up a bag of Skittles and a hot cup of coffee, her thoughts straying to Dean as she paid. It had been over a month since he'd last been able to swing by and she'd been looking forward to this visit for a while.

Heading back outside, she opened the bag of Skittles as she went. Tossing a couple to Jack, she had to grin as the dog ate his favorite candy with pleasure. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed Bobby's number, knowing that the early hour call wouldn't bother the hunter.

Ten minutes later Sara closed the phone with a curse and moved towards the Jeep. Opening the passenger side door, she waited for Jack to settle in. Damn it, the guys had now been out of phone contact for nearly three days now. As she settled behind the steering wheel, she felt wide-awake and ready to close the distance between her and the brothers.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sam listened to the foul curse that slipped from Dean just before the phone went dead. He couldn't help but grin appreciatively at his brother's expletive, after all it pretty much summed up how he was feeling. Listening intently, he failed to hear any noises; he sat wondering what his chances were that the spirit simply split. Pulling out his shotgun, he began easing the door open. As it swung about three-quarters of the way open, he barely had a chance to duck before a plate crashed against the doorframe, next to his head. Ducking back inside, Sam could have sworn he heard a laugh as he was once again trapped inside the pantry by a barrage of what sounded like dinner plates._

_888_

_Dean paused outside the back door, ice rivulets running down the back of his neck. His frame was wracked with tremors, his cough was back, and he could feel the sweat pour down his face as his fever increased. Easing open the back door, he could hear a symphony of noises coming from the next room. Cursing the spirit and all like it, Dean silenced his chattering teeth and glanced around the doorframe._

_His weary eyes took in a door, riddled with knives, and the floor covered in shards of what Dean assumed had been a set of dishes. Apparently, the spirit had become bored or else had run out of china because something was now tossing small appliances at the door. Dean eased farther into the room, desperate to avoid detection. He knew he wasn't up to par right now and he needed every advantage he could garner in order to get his brother out of that closet._

_Raising the barrel of his gun, Dean swung into the room and fired into the kitchen. Carefully making his way towards the door, he called out to Sam._

_"Yeah Dean, I'm in here" Sam eased open the door, taking in the destruction of the room and his obviously sick brother. A wave of guilt ripped through him. He silently berated himself for this mess; he should have been able to cleanse this house without having to drag Dean out here. Kicking a broken chair in anger, Sam turned towards Dean. "Listen, Dean, I'm sorry, I just didn't want you to have to deal with this. I figured I'd be able to get it done on my own."_

_Dean glanced wearily at Sam, normally he would be shaking with anger over a stupid stunt like this. This time though he couldn't spare the energy, "Forget it, Sam, let's just get out of here, before it comes back," Dean said heading toward the back door._

_Sam stubbornly shook his head, standing with arms crossed he said, "I've got everything done but the basement. You stay here; I'll just go down and finish it. We could be at Sara's by tomorrow."_

_"No way are you going down there alone, Sam." Dean drew in a breath as he moved towards a door he assumed hid the basement stairs. Glancing at his brother, he said, "Let's go, Paladin."_

_Sam followed his brother with a hearty sigh, knowing that there was no way Dean would allow him to go on his own. "Paladin, really Dean I had no idea you were that old," Sam quipped unable to help himself._

_"Dude, haven't you heard of re-runs, 'Have Gun Will Travel' was a classic. Now what'd you find out so far?" Dean asked as he eased himself down a rickety set of stairs._

_"This thing's got deadly aim, and a strong arm," Sam said really, not liking the way Dean was grasping the railing as he descended the stairs._

_Dean rolled his eyes, smiling at Sam's attempt at humor. "I bet Sammy."_

_"Seriously, man, it seems to be a poltergeist. I did the first three floors and was headed this way when it finally put in an appearance._

_Dean reached the bottom stair, pausing for a moment he found himself swaying dizzily. He felt Sam reach out and steady him. Shrugging slightly Dean muttered, "I'm fine Sam, lay off."_

_"Oh excuse me, cause I mean of course you're fine," Sam muttered as he waited to see if Dean stayed on his feet._

_Dean ignored Sam's sarcasm and took a moment to gather himself, before he focused on the job at hand. Ducking, he took in the dirt floors and low ceiling; the prevalent smell was one of mildew and rotted vegetation. "Okay, Sam, you take north and east. I'll do west and south, remember quickly." Heading towards his own point, Dean was careful to keep Sammy in sight._

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Sara was about an hour and a half away from Greenway when the storm hit. Slowing down to a near crawl despite the Jeep's four-wheel drive, Sara squinted into the storm-darkened sky. Cursing a blue streak, she gripped the wheel tighter and moved through the blinding-force snow, as quick as she dared.

"Don't worry, Jack, they'll be fine," Sara repeated once again to the dog that lay snoring on the front seat. His head was leaning against the window, drool dripping down the door panel, his back end practically hanging off the bucket seat. Sara had to snort at the dog's absolute contentment.

"You travel so well, Jack, I should give you to the boys with strict orders to bite them in the ass every time they do something stupid." Sara laughed as the dog snorted in his sleep. "Yeah, I know not even you could manage to keep them out of trouble."

Turning her attention to the road again, Sara pushed on, not knowing what she would find in Greenway.

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_"Move, Sammy, move," Dean yelled as he bolted down the dark alley, urging Sam to run faster._

_Sam could hear the footsteps behind him, the cop was quick, he had to give him that. Careening around a corner, he prayed that the cops of Greenway weren't the type to shoot first. Arms pumping, sweat pouring down his face Sam really began regretting this job._

_As he ran, he could hear his brother's labored breathing. Dean's cold had taken on epic proportions after their attempt to rid the house of its angry spirit. Pushing himsel,f Sam pulled in front of Dean. His brother had begun lagging and Sam was afraid that the cop would catch up. Like a greyhound chasing a rabbit around the track, Sam knew his big brother would never allow Sam to lead. Sure enough, Dean's pace increased and Sam found himself struggling to stay in front of his older brother. _

_After a moment, they could no longer hear the sound of footsteps behind them. Breathing deeply Sam tried to get his breathing back under control. "I can't believe that cop spotted us leaving the house."_

_Dean hacked into his hand, struggling to catch his breath. "Sorry, Sam, I just didn't see him until it was too late."_

_"You're forgiven, Dean, it's not often we have something run us out of a house, I really thought that last vase was going to knock me out," Sam said gingerly touching the large bruise that was forming at the base of his skull. "I don't know what it is, Dean, but you can bet this is no poltergeist that's for sure."_

_Dean dragged in a deep breath, the cold, icy air causing him to cough once again. "Every death took place in that house, what else could it be." Dean staggered slightly as his cough began again._

_Sam stared worriedly at his brother. "Well, we'll figure it out. Where's the car?"_

_Dean began leading the way, back toward town. Sam became seriously worried as sleet once again began falling from the sky. Watching as Dean bent over, yet again trying to clear the congestion that was drowning him. "I'm calling Bobby, Dean, you're in no shape to finish this. He can swing by and help us out." Sam felt his pocket, for his cell. Stopping he again checked all his pockets, not able to find it, he dumped the contents of the duffle on the ground, futilely searching._

_"Dude, 5-0," Dean said as he watched a cruiser approach._

_Sam snarled flinging everything back in the bag and handing it off to Dean. "Take off, I've got less to hide."_

_Dean stood wearily, the bag weighing down his shoulders "Too late, Sammy, just let me handle it."_

_Sam glanced at his brother and made a decision, throwing his arm around Dean's shoulders, Sam sagged just as the cruiser pulled up to the curb. Trying not to lean too much, Sam dropped his head and watched as the cop approached them._

_Fifteen minutes later, Dean stood watching Sam being helped into the cop car. Part of him couldn't help but be proud of the lengths that Sam had gone to, in order to deflect suspicion from him and part of him could have beaten his brother for being so careless with himself. Dean, set out in the direction he'd come from, his intention to bail his brother out as soon as possible. As he walked, he found himself wondering exactly where Sam had managed to learn each line of the song 'Henry the Eighth'._

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_If he were honest with himself, Sam would admit that he had panicked at the sight of the police. Knowing that Dean could not afford to bear any scrutiny Sam had quickly decided that playing the part of a drunk would shift the attention to himself. After all, he had reasoned, it is not as if they were driving drunk. How much trouble could he get into? That had been his reasoning as he'd thrown his arm over Dean's shoulders and began babbling._

_However, after he'd been taken in for public intoxication, he'd begun to think it might be a bad idea. As he had been helped into the cruiser the last thing he had seen was Dean standing hunched over in the cold, unable to control the cough that overtook him._

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Sam cursed as he stubbed his toe once again. A warbling voice called out, "You alright, Sonny?"

Sam gritted his teeth and answered, "Where's the heater?"

"Oh, it should be in there somewhere." the motel manager answered.

If it wasn't for the rapidly piling up snow and the fact that the electricity hadn't even flickered in the half-hour it had been off, Sam would have simply kept his brother warm with blankets. However, the Winchester's luck had been so far gone for the last couple of days that Sam didn't want to risk it. At least with the space heater Dean would be warm.

Sam felt like shouting for glee as his fingers finally encountered the smooth metal side of the heater; using his hands, he dug around shoes, old sports equipment, and luggage in order to heave the monstrosity out of the closet.

"There you go; you'll be snug as a bug." The old man said, grinning.

Sam moved the heater carefully; glad to hear the sloshing of liquid. He only hoped that the kerosene was still good. Nodding to the old man, Sam gathered the heater and the oil lamp the old man had given him. As he lugged both back to the room, he noticed that the snow was becoming deeper by the minute.

Carefully opening the door to the room Sam, quickly set up the heater. He was grateful and honestly surprised that it lit so easily. Holding off on lighting the lamp, Sam took a moment to check on Dean. Once again, his eyes darted towards the near empty cough syrup bottle. Determinedly Sam decided that next time Dean awoke Sam would question him about the car.

888

_Sam sat on the low bunk, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He had been brought back to the station and dumped in a holding cell. As far as he knew no charges had been filed as of yet, in fact he hadn't even been give a phone call. Not that he was willing to bring this oversight to anyone's attention. It had been over seven hours since he had been left here to rot and Sam could only image Dean's panic by now._

_It was then that he heard the echo of his brother's voice. Listening he had to grin as Dean wove a web of bullshit for whoever he was speaking to. "Listen, he's just a kid. Had his heart broken yesterday by some chick, you know. He was just blowing off some steam, and it's not as if he tried to drive home. We left the car, because we knew we'd had too much to drink."_

_Sam strained to hear, as a lower voice answered. "Not at all, Chris, I've got a younger sister myself and I can't tell you the number of times I had to bail her out of trouble. I'm only sorry that Norris gave you such a hard time. The kid does a good job, but suffers from delusions of grandeur. Sometimes he forgets this is a small burg, you know."_

_Sam heard a smothered cough as his brother came into view. To say that Sam was shocked by Dean's appearance would be the understatement of the year. His brother's face was haggard, and he was holding his ribs protectively. Sam's focus shifted to another man in uniform baring a sheriff's badge on his chest. As the older man unlocked the cell door, he grinned a bit. "Well you're looking none the worse for wear young man."_

_Sam nodded and said, "No sir."_

_"Good, can't let the ladies get you down. You're a young guy; just remember there are plenty of fish in the sea." Sam smiled in thanks and moved towards his brother._

_Dean smiled once more and said, "Thanks again, Sheriff."_

_The Sheriff nodded and said, "You take care of the cold, Tom, plenty of rest now, you hear."_

_Dean nodded and led the way out of the front of the station._

_"Shit, Dean, what were you thinking, the whole reason I was arrested was to keep you out of that place," Sam scolded as he and his brother moved down the sidewalk._

_Dean drew a shallow breath and said, "I'm the Jedi master of bullshit, and even I couldn't convince that asshole deputy to let you go, I was there all night Sam. That damn kid refused to release you without the sheriff's permission and the sheriff was off duty till this morning."_

_Sam relented somewhat "Alright, let's get you to the motel before you pass out. Where's the car?"_

_Dean's brow lowered in concentration as he tried to remember. Glancing around as if it would suddenly appear, Dean finally turned towards Sam and said, "I'm not sure, Sam, I walked here from where you were picked up."_

_Sam's eyebrows disappeared under his heavy bangs. "You lost the car?"_

_"No I didn't loose it I just..." and with those words, Dean's eyes rolled up in his head and he hit the ground in an unconscious heap_


	4. Chapter 4

Sam sat in the glow of his computer screen, going over his notes once again. The laptop's screen was the only light in the room, other than a faint glow from portable heater. He had left the lantern unlit for now, not wanting to waste the gas. Standing, he walked to the door, and opened it slightly. In just a short time the roads had gone from ice and slush to a good couple of inches, of white powder. Not for the first time Sam found himself wondering how he was going to get him and Dean out of this mess.

Sam reached out and flipped open Dean's cell phone, turning it on once more. At once, the screen went black as the phone shut down. The battery had been dead by the time; Sam had managed to get his brother back to the hotel after his collapse at the police station. The cell charger they carried was in the car, along with the majority of their weapons and clothing.

After Dean collapsed Sam had gone to his brother's side, alarmed by how still he was Sam had tried waking him. It was then that Sheriff York had come out of the station. He had graciously offered to give the boys a ride home. That's how Sam had once again found himself in the backseat of a police cruiser.

Sheriff York had been adamant about taking Dean to the local county hospital, and if it hadn't been for an accident out on the local expressway, he probably would have made good on his threat. The older man had seemed quite taken with Dean or rather Tom, as he knew him.

Sam stood once more and moved towards his brother, placing a hand on his forehead, he noticed that Dean's fever seemed to be returning. Shaking him gently he, laid out another dose of Tylenol and the last of the cough syrup.

Dean tried to brush off the hand that was shaking him, but he couldn't seem to make his arms work. So instead, he settled for opening his eyes and glaring, except instead of seeing Sam in the glow of the hotel lamps, he saw Sam in shadow. Blinking his eyes, Dean asked, "Why are we in the dark, Dude?" Dean was alarmed by the sound of his own voice and by the weight on his chest. The weight was keeping him from drawing a proper breath, Dean tried looking down to see what it was but found that moving his head simply took too much effort.

Sam smiled, his teeth flashing in the darkness "Powers out. Here's the last of the cough syrup and a couple Tylenol for your fever." He helped Dean sit up. Trying not to hover too much, he sat on the bed next to Dean's his hands clasped in his lap, to prevent him from checking Dean's fever once again.

Dean shook his head wearily. "This town friggin' sucks, you know that, Sammy?"

"Dean, you have no idea. Listen man, I know you're tired, but, I really need to know where the car is. We're out of everything, including medicine." Sam watched his brother as he frowned in concentration.

Finally, Dean sighed and looked up at Sam with dread in his eyes. "I'm really not sure, Sam, I drove over towards the house to find you, I remember parking in some kind of lot, but that's about it. And then I walked directly to the station when you got taken in." Dean's look of worry tore at Sam's heart.

"That's okay, I'll find it." Sam knew though that time was running out, people didn't take kindly to abandoned cars. The last thing he needed was some gung-ho meter maid having the car towed. Between the weapons in the trunk and the pile of fake ID's in the glove box, Sam and Dean would be taken in, by the kindly Sheriff York, before you could say 'Busted'.

Sam watched as Dean fought to stay awake, after a moment he stood up and helped his brother recline once more. "I'm going to have to go look for it Dean, I hate to leave you, but we need that car." Sam listened as Dean mumbled something incoherent, taking that as a yes. Sam set about the room, trying to make sure that Dean would be okay for a bit without him.

Setting the lamp and spare matches next to the bed, he lit it and turned the glow down to almost nothing, hopefully that would allow Dean to sleep and conserve some of the fuel. Next, he wrote a note, letting him know where he was just in case he came too, and set that on the nightstand.

Concerned with the way the weather was getting increasingly worse Sam shrugged into an extra sweatshirt and his jacket. His heavy coat was in the car, so he was going to have to make do for now. With a last glance at Dean, Sam opened the door to the room. Stepping out into the snow filled night, he found himself falling over a slight figure.

888

Sara found herself cursing the world as she finally made her way into town. The wall of white she'd been driving through for the last hour had only served to piss her off even more. At a loss of where to go next, Sara pulled up in front of a small diner. Rolling the window down a bit, she left a still snoring Jack on the front seat. Making her way into the diner, she sat at the counter.

A tired looking woman in her late fifties came to take her order. Sara noticed her nametag read Annie. As the woman stood impatiently tapping her pencil against her pad she said, "What can I get for you sweetie?"

Sara smiled up at her and said, "Just coffee thanks." Sara hadn't eaten in a bit, but the way her stomach was rolling she had no interest in food.

As Annie came back with the pot, Sara asked, "I'm looking for someone, I know they were in town a couple of days ago, and they may still be. Two guys, the taller one's about six foot four, brown, shaggy, hair, and green eyes." Sara gestured to her chin "He's got a cleft in his chin, and is young and good looking."

"Sorry, sweetie, we don't get many strangers through here, and I'll tell you what, I'd remember a good looking young guy." Annie moved away, refilling the cup of a man in uniform that sat four seats away from Sara.

Sara called out, "Do you have a phone book I could borrow? I need a hotel."

The man on the stool turned and Sara noticed that it was a police uniform he was wearing. "You're looking for two guys, huh."

Sara didn't know if she should feel hope or despair that a cop seemed to know the brothers. Erring on the side of caution, Sara merely nodded.

Bob York took a long look at the tired looking young woman on the stool next to him. He had been listening as she had questioned Annie about the young men that he had met a couple days ago. The woman looked to be in her early thirties her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was wearing a long sleeve tee shirt and a pair of jeans. Bob had taken a liking to young Tom and guessing who the young woman must be, Bob frowned at her.

Sara glanced up as Annie, noticing the look on the Sheriff's face, moved over to him, disapproval on her face. "Bob, is this the woman you were telling me about?"

At the Sheriff's curt nod, Annie turned to Sara. Pulling the cup of hot coffee away from Sara, she dumped it in the sink and said, "Well, missy, you can just take yourself off. We don't need any of your kind here." Muttering curses as she returned to the kitchen, Sara heard the woman say, "Poor boy, to be treated like that by a woman old enough to know better."

Sara stood uncertainly. "I'm not sure what's going on, I think you may have me mistaken with someone else."

Bob's brow was a thundercloud of anger. "You're looking for Sam, right?"

At Sara's hesitant nod, the Sheriff continued, "That's what I thought, and Annie's right any woman that would treat a young man that way is no good. Sam's better off without you, poor Tom's having a hard enough time with the kid, he doesn't need you showing up and making things more difficult." Standing, he nodded to the door. "Go on, you can just take yourself on out of here. I'm not about to tell you where those boys are."

Sara grabbed her coat and headed for the exit, a glance back showed the Sheriff and Annie deep in conversation. As she moved back out into the snowy night, she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Well, she thought, as she climbed into the Jeep, at least she knew they were still in town somewhere. Scratching Jack's ears, as he tried to climb into her lap, she glanced about the small town. She needed a phone book, for a listing of local motels. With a sigh, Sara pulled back out onto the road. Trolling the town for the Impala, she comforted herself with the thought that it was a hard car to miss.

888

Ida stood, knuckling her back, as she leaned on a broom. Old age had officially caught up with her, and the chill that invaded the house only served as a reminder. Resuming her sweeping, she continued to clean up, the splintered remains of her dishes, while cursing the people responsible. What right, she fumed, had they, to come into her home and try to displace her.

This house had been in her family for generations, it was the only piece of her family's history left. Ida had promised her father, on his deathbed that she would protect this house and keep it in the family and by god, she was going to do just that.

Those two men that had come to the house the other day worried her though, they weren't like the others, and she wasn't sure why they'd even been there. She had watched and waited as the younger man had gone through the house, top to bottom, on each floor he'd inexplicably punched four holes, in the walls of her house, and then had put a tiny pouch filled with some type of smelly herb in each hole.

She had been mystified by what he was doing; it was only as he had headed towards her hidey-hole in the basement that she'd had to take matters into hand. That hadn't worked out as planned though.

Instead of running him off, he'd called the other one, and he'd proven to be much more difficult to run off. Smiling, Ida continued to clean up, by now her spell should have worked and those two would find themselves with too many other worries, to bother an old lady or her house.

888

Sara was getting nowhere, she had found two motels, in opposite ends of town but neither one had produced any leads on the boys. There had been no sign of the Impala, and every time she had questioned any of the townspeople, she was branded a scarlet woman, and unceremoniously herded out of the establishment. She had no idea, that Sheriffs had so much free time on their hands; it seemed as if he had managed to warn everyone in town to be as uncooperative as possible.

Finally, Sara pulled over, she needed to be doing something, anything would be better than driving aimlessly. She would walk through the small town and hope she came across either the car or someone a bit more sympathetic to a heart-reaking Jezebel, as the general store owner had called her.

Snapping a lead on Jack, she began walking. Shoulders hunched against the driving snow and bitter cold she just wandered. Not having any particular destination in mind she was, caught off guard, as Jack suddenly tore across a parking lot. Sara let go of his leash. After all, she might be a Jezebel, but, she wasn't stupid enough to think she could stop him. She followed her wayward dog as quickly as she could.

Cursing as she moved across the parking lot of an abandoned motel, she squinted in the darkness trying to pick out Jack against the white snow. Walking along the sidewalk, she called to him again and again. Stupid, stubborn, dog normally he was well behaved and listened well. With the snowfall though, the dog was like a kid in a candy store. Spotting the big dog standing outside one of the hotel room doors, Sara moved towards him. Bending over to seize his leash, Sara never noticed the door open.

Sara tumbled as something large knocked her over, twisting so as not to land on her face; she was bumped once again, by Jack's wet back. When the dust finally settled, she found herself trapped under a large and very warm body, with Jacks wet tail slapping her face as he growled in happiness.

Sam wasn't sure what had happened, one minute he'd been leaving the room, in search of the car and the next he was falling on someone soft, that smelled vaguely familiar. Glancing down, he noticed a pair of well-known eyes staring up at him. Unable to stop himself Sam hugged Sara for all he was worth; finally, he thought something was going right.

Sara let out a grunt as Sam came within a hairsbreadth of breaking her ribs. Barely able to draw a deep breath, she said, "Hey, big fella you're kind of crushing me. Would you mind moving a bit?" Sara was sure she heard a snort from the direction of the bed, but she wasn't able to see much except Sam.

Sam heard his brother's weak voice speak up, "Come on, Sam, I know it's been a while but don't you think you should let the lady up." Sam flushed in embarrassment as he scrambled to his feet. Pushing away the still dancing Saint Bernard, he held a hand out to her.

Sara took the hand and allowed Sam to pull her to her feet, she couldn't stop smiling. Patting Jack's big head she glanced around the dark room. "You guys into squatting now?"

"Power's off and has been a large part of the day," Sam said.

Dean leaned over and turned the wick up on the lantern, a wave of relief flowing through him at the sight of Sara. As she turned toward him however, he saw the concern that clouded her features.

Sara turned toward the bed, as the room became lighter and almost gasped. Unconcerned with the snow she was tracking or the water that was dripping from her wet head, she moved towards Dean. Grasping his head in her hands, she felt for a fever, shaking her head, she turned to Sam and asked, "How long's he been like this? He's burning up."

Sam sighed and said, "Apparently, he's been like this for two weeks now. It's just been the last two days, that it's come to a head. I'm out of cough syrup, the Tylenol is almost gone, neither one of us has eaten, the Impala is lost and I spent last night in jail. That about sums it up right, Dean?"

"You forgot we got our asses kicked by a china tossing spirit. Oh, and of course the whole power issue," Dean rasped with a worn smile.

Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, yeah and there's that."

Sara snorted. "Well then. We'll just have to make our own luck. Sam, I'm going to make a list and you're going to get my Jeep and gather supplies." Sitting down at the table, she drew Sam's notepad and pen towards her. Without looking up from her list, she pointed a finger in Dean's direction. "Get your ass back in that bed."

Dean's eyebrows rose in surprise, exchanging glances with a grinning Sam, Dean muttered a curse and slipped back under the covers.

"Don't use that tone with me, Winchester. You got yourself in this state the least you can do is not make it worse." Sara stood up, handing the keys and the list to Sam "Food too, Sam, pick us up something to eat."

Sam hesitated. "Maybe I should stay here, keep an eye on, Dean."

"That's not an option, because, apparently I broke your much younger heart during our torrid love affair. So far I've been asked to leave every store in town," Sara said, shaking her head as she pawed her way through Sam's first aid kit.

Dean couldn't stop the burst of laughter that overtook him, nose running, eyes tearing he was unable to control the coughing fit that followed. He could smell the sweet scent of vanilla as Sara wrapped her strong arms around his back. It took at least ten minutes before Dean's coughing calmed. Finally, he found that he could draw a breath without coughing. "That's actually my fault. I may have let it slip to the local sheriff that a girl dumped Sam. Though I'm not sure I remember using the words, older woman."

Sara ran a hand through Dean's sweat soaked hair, "You better not have. Anyway, like I said I might as well be wearing a big old scarlet 'A' on my chest as far as the townspeople are concerned."

Sam nodded. "I'll go, no worries. You two sit tight."

Sara watched as Sam left the small room, turning to Dean a slight smile on her face she asked, "Dude, where's your car?"


	5. Chapter 5

Dean snorted as he scooted aside so that Sara could lie next to him. "That is sooo not funny," He said as he fitted her against his side. He had to smile as Jack jumped up on Sam's bed and proceeded to collapse on top of it. "How'd you find us?"

Sara felt herself relaxing for the first time in days. As the tension left her, she found herself tired as hell. "Bobby told me Greenway, and Jack led me here. It was dumb luck actually. I passed this place a couple times in the car and just assumed it was closed, because it was so dark."

Dean closed his eyes, trying not to breathe too deeply. "Sorry about missing dinner" he said.

As he drifted off to sleep, the last thing he heard was. "You big dummy, like it matters that you missed dinner."

Sara glanced over at Dean and bit her lip. He was thinner and more worn looking than the last time they had been together. Although, she would never admit it aloud, she worried this job was going to keep taking bits and pieces of him until there was nothing left. Tracing his cheek, she lay on her side, facing him, finally drawing a deep breath she slipped into sleep, content at last.

888

Sam let out another volley of curses as the tire iron in his hand slipped, slicing his palm. Tightening down the last lug nut, he began walking the flat tire towards the back of the Jeep. Of all the rotten lousy luck, he had been on his way to the store, when the tire had gone flat. Pulling over onto the shoulder of the road, he'd gotten out to change it. And if that wasn't enough luck five minutes later a snowplow had passed by, covering him with a layer of cinders and slush. He was wet, tired, and his hand was now dripping blood at an alarming rate. As he secured the flat onto the rack at the back of the Jeep, he glanced at his watch, noting that it had taken him close to two hours to get the tire changed. That's what happened when you drop four out of the five lug nuts into the snow. You spend forty-five minutes looking for them.

Since it was after eleven, Sam saw no reason to head into town. At this point everything was sure to be closed. As Sam headed down the road, he began looking for signs of an all night convenience store. He figured he could at least pick up a couple of the items on Sara's list.

888

One moment Sara lay warm and content and the next she was standing beside the bed, bracing Dean. The coughs racking his body were making the bed shake alarmingly. Cursing the darkness, she said, "It's okay, Dean, the power will be on soon."

Apparently, as they'd slept the last of the fuel had run out of the lantern leaving the room in shadow. What concerned Sara more now though was a lack of hot water; if she had hot water, at least she could offer Dean some relief.

Sara looked up in surprise as every light in the motel suddenly came on. Glaring at the brightness, she felt her hopes lift slightly. "I'm going to let go, Dean, just for a minute I'll be right back." Sara eased out from behind him, hating the harsh barking sound he was making. Knowing he needed to loosen the congestion in his chest so he could begin coughing it out, Sara made a beeline for the bathroom.

Dean felt as if he was drowning, unable to take a proper breath, unable to stop the coughs that were now making his ribs ache as if broken, he found himself wishing something big and nasty would just knock him out. At least then, he would find some peace. In moments, Sara was back at his side, nagging him to stand. Unable to ignore her persistent hands he tried getting to his feet.

Sara was used to caring for people, with three kids, the colds, and stomach flues never really ended. What she wasn't used to was caring for six feet of solid muscle. At least not, while that muscle was in the form of a unconscious Dean. "Come on, Dean, I know it's tough but you need to get up." Sara manuvered his legs over the side of the bed. Using every bit of strength she had, she got him up and on his feet. Arm slung over her shoulder, she moved toward the bathroom practically dragging him as he continued to cough.

Dean tried to help as much as he could, and even still, he knew that he was putting the majority of his weight on Sara. Listening to her as they slowly covered the distance towards the closed bathroom door, he found himself wondering if she used the same choice phrases she was using now, when the kids were sick. Finally, as they approached the door, Sara reached out and opened it. Dean saw a cloud of billowing steam escape before she was leading him through.

Sara, unable to keep him standing any longer, practically dropped Dean on the bathroom floor. Slamming the door closed, she welcomed the steam that was rolling out of the shower. "You'll feel better now. The steam'll loosen the congestion in your chest; you'll actually start coughing that crap out of your lungs." Sara dropped down beside him, unable to do much to hurry the process she simply sat beside him and offered what comfort she could.

Sara found herself wondering how many times she had sat in just this same manner with her kids. Jimmy especially had always seemed to worsen at night. The hours she had spent, holding him in her arms, his head on her shoulder, watching as the heat turned his cheeks rosy. Knowing that it would help Dean as much as it eased her children, Sara sat back content to sweat and wait.

Dean could feel the steam from the shower rolling over him. Though the room was hot to the point where he was uncomfortable, he nonetheless found himself able to stop coughing for a moment. Leaning back against wall, he took a moment to study Sara. Her hair was a mess from sleep, her eyes were puffy and her skin was pale, overall he had seen her look better. But, as she reached out and ran a hand along his chin he took comfort in her solid presence and her unfailing smile. Closing his eyes, Dean could only hope that Sam was faring better.

888

There, thought Sam, as he pulled into an all night convenience store. Parking the car, he quickly headed inside, shaking his head at the still falling snow. Really, finding the Impala was quickly becoming a mute point, simply because although the car was game, it just couldn't handle snow this deep. Sam moved into the store, quickly ransacking the shelves, trying to fill the list Sara had given him. As he worked, he couldn't help but curse this job once again.

Fifteen minutes later Sam was on his way back to the motel. He was becoming anxious now, he had been gone for over two hours, and he could only imagine that Dean was beginning to panic. Unfortunately, it seemed like he wouldn't be there any time soon, do to the snowplow truck that was slowly making its way in front of him. Sam thumped his hand against the steering wheel, he just couldn't figure out how a simple trip to the store could go so wrong. As he continued to make his way down the street, he could only hope that Dean was making out better.

888

Sara shut off the water, looking down at Dean she noticed that he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Knowing that she had two choices, one she could wake him up and risk setting off another attack or two she could let him be. Really, no contest, she thought, opening the door just a bit she slipped out of the bathroom and grabbed a pillow and blanket. Heading back, she paused once again at the front window, scanning the road for any sign of Sam.

Back in the bathroom, she tucked a pillow under Dean, careful to elevate him somewhat, and covered him with the blanket. The room was still full of steam and other than the fact that Dean was wet from the moisture and sweat; she figured he would still get some much-needed sleep. Leaving the room, she pulled at her own wet shirt. Uncomfortable and worried about Sam, she moved toward the door. Glancing over at Jack, she called to him, asking him if he wanted out.

Jack lay unmoving, his snore vibrating through the small room. Shaking her head, Sara moved over and pushed the big dog a couple of times. Finally, he lifted his head, with a snort and began stretching. Sara watched with fondness as he stepped off the bed and stretched some more. Unwilling to send him outside on his own, Sara grabbed her jacket, noticing that it was soaked she left it in favor for Dean's coat. Dragging it on she took a moment to inhale the familiar scent.

Heading out into the night, Sara glanced at the sky and cursed the snow that was falling in a sheet of unrelenting white. As she walked across the parking lot, Jack jumping and playing beside her, she couldn't help but say "I'm starting to get worried Jack, there's no way Sam should have been gone so long. If he's not here in five minutes, I'm going to have to do something." Sara watched for a moment more as Jack, played puppy in the snow. As she waited she heard the growl of a snowplow truck pass by the motel, moments later she saw the familiar shape of the Jeep pull in. Sighing in relief, she quickly headed back to the room, intending to give Sam hell for scaring her.

Sam pulled up in front of the room, and felt a small surge of relief at the sight of light beaming through the windows of their room. As he climbed out of the Jeep, he saw Jack come barreling out of the dark. Preparing himself to have a 175 pounds of wet dog, hit him at full speed, he instead breathed a sigh of relief as the dog came to a skidding stop just in front of him. Tongue lolling he sat grinning, his doggy grin, as if all was right with the world. Sam couldn't help but feel better, reaching down with his uninjured hand he ruffled the dogs silky ears. Glancing up, he quickly spotted Sara making her way through the deep snow.

As she neared, Sam saw the thunderous expression on her face, he quickly held up his hastily wrapped, still bleeding hand to forestall the coming lecture. Sam almost laughed at the about face she did, her face settling into worried lines she reached out and grasped the injured hand.

"Ah, Sam what happened?" Sara gently unwrapped the handkerchief that was wrapped around his hand and winced in sympathy. The cut was on Sam's left hand, it started at the base of his thumb and moved diagonally across the fleshy pad of his palm. Not liking how deep it looked she re-wrapped it and shoved him towards the room. "I'll get the bags, get in there, and get dry."

Sam didn't have the energy to argue, heading inside he felt a moment's panic at the sight of Dean's empty bed. Moving towards the bathroom, he opened the door carefully. As a cloud of steam rushed him, Sam saw his brother sound asleep on the bathroom floor.

"Shut the door, before you let out the steam," Sara said as she dumped two small bags on the table. Turning, she took off Dean's jacket and carefully laid it by the room heater. Moving towards Sam, she took in his wet and weary state. "Strip, Sam, get changed and I'll see about that hand."

Sam looked down at himself and shrugged, "I don't have anything else."

Sara pointed a finger at Jack, and said, "Lay down." As the big dog settled in a corner, she moved out into the night. Moments later, she was back with an overnight bag and a blue backpack. Opening the case, Sam waited to see just what miracle she would pull out of it. Finally, she turned crowing in delight as she held up a faded, black tee shirt.

Tossing it to Sam she said, "Its Dean's, I use it to sleep in."

Sara moved toward the bathroom and opened the door, noticing that the steam had started to dissipate she quickly leaned over Dean and started the shower again. As she was balanced trying not to fall on Dean, a strong arm snaked out and grabbed her off her feet.

Dean had awoken only moments before the bathroom door had opened, testing his lungs, he found that he actually felt better, not great by a long shot but at least he could draw a breath without coughing.

As the door opened, he'd seen Sara trying her best to turn on the shower spray once again, without stepping on him. Smiling he had reached out and snagged her off her feet drawing her down with him.

Sara landed on her side, beside Dean. "How're you feeling?" She questioned one ear pressed against his chest.

"Actually, I feel better. Did I hear Sammy?" At Sara's nod, Dean began trying to stand.

Sara felt Dean struggling to get to his feet, jumping up she reached down a hand and helped him up. Gathering up the bedding, she followed him as he left the bathroom on shaky legs.

Dean tottered his way toward a chair and slumped down in it. Coughing, he was grateful when a handful of tissues were thrust in his hand, spitting a wad of phlegm he was glad to see that his cough was finally doing something more than causing his ribs to ache.

Sara nodded in satisfaction and turned to Sam who had changed shirts but was now sitting in his wet jeans. Jerking her thumb she said, "Off with them, Sam, you won't make me blush."

Sam heard Dean mumble, something about how Sara would be embarrassed for Sam, not by him. Sam shook his head trying not to flush and stripped off his wet jeans. If he was honest with himself, he was happy to get out of the cold clinging material. After handing the soaking pants to her, he took the seat she indicated.

"Dean, take a look at his hand, I don't think it needs stitches but honestly I'm not sure." Sara continued to hang clothing around the heater, cranking it up, she hoped everything would dry soon.

Dean rubbed his eyes for a moment before focusing on his brother. "Let me see, Sam".

Sam offered his hand up to Dean, trying not to wince as his brother pulled the handkerchief away. "It's fine, Dean, I'll just clean it up and put a bandage on it."

Dean turned to ask for the first aid kit, but before he uttered the words, it was placed on the table. Uttering a thank you, he delved into the kit, intent on fixing Sam's hand.

Sam watched as Sara finally stopped flitting about the room, and sank on the bed. Head in her hands she sighed wearily. Sam caught Dean's eye and nodded towards her.

"Sara, bed, now. There is no reason for you to stay up; Sam and I are big boys. We'll manage." Dean was a bit dismayed to hear the tremor in his voice. He was so tired; he wasn't sure how he was going to manage getting Sam's hand sorted out.

Sara's head popped up at the waver in Dean's voice, stretching, she was up and across the room in minutes. Delving into the bags that Sam had brought, she quickly found the cough syrup. Pouring a dose, she all but shoved it in Dean's mouth before he could protest. Next, she handed him a couple of Tylenol and a bottle of water. Shaking out a couple more she handed them to Sam along with another bottle. Glancing down at her jeans, she realized that the lower, half of her legs were wet from the snow. Grabbing a set of pajama bottoms and a tank top, she headed into the bathroom.

Sam watched as Sara moved about the room, he knew she was trying to keep busy in order not to fall asleep. He understood where she was coming from he was exhausted himself. Glancing down at his hand, he was relieved to see that Dean was choosing to use the butterfly stitches. Sam didn't relish the thought of having stitches in the palm of his hand. As Dean finished up with an antibiotic cream and a bandage, Sam looked up to see Sara come out of the bathroom.

It was Dean that decided they had all had enough, moving slowly about the room, he turned out all the lights, except the bathroom. Shutting the door all but a crack, he said, "Light's out"

Sam sank down in his bed sleep overtaking him in moments.

Dean climbed into bed next to Sara, he was loathe to close his eyes and sleep, but he was quickly finding he had no other choice. As he lay he felt Sara snuggle against his side, content at last he allowed himself to drift off.

888

Dean awoke to a warm wet weight lying on his arm. Opening his eyes, he saw a pair of large brown eyes, staring at him pathetically. Grimacing at Jack's dog breathe, he reached out and stroked the dogs, soft head. He had always had a soft spot where Jack was concerned. The dog had proven his loyalty to Sara and the people she cared about more than once.

Glancing over at the bed next to him, he saw that Sam was still sleeping. Sara was gone from his side, but Dean guessed from the sound of the shower that she was getting cleaned up. Taking stock of himself, he realized that he actually felt better, not great, but defiantly improved.

Sam awoke slowly; as he lay, he realized that except for a slight throbbing in his hand he felt better than he had in days. A glance over at the next bed showed him, Dean was awake. Sam sat up; rubbing a hand through his hair, he asked, "How're you feeing?"

Dean sat up himself, nodding he answered, "Pretty good I think. Chest still hurts, but I feel like I can breathe a bit better."

Sam laughed as Jack came over to his side, jumping up next to him the big dog tried to find a place to lay on the bed. Sam scooted over a bit and found himself grinning as the dog tried to fit his large body into the small space. "How come he never jumps into bed with you?" Sam asked as he scratched Jack's ears.

"Sara hates dogs on the beds, its one of the few rules she has. I guess he figures the same goes for me. Not that you need to tell Sara, but I've caught him sleeping with the boys a few times." Dean climbed wearily out of bed and set about trying to find some clean clothes. "We're going to have to find the car today, not to mention I'm starving."

Sara came out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why the people of this town are under the impression that I broke Sam's heart."

"It's my fault," Dean said as he launched into story about how he had spent the evening Sam was in jail.

Sam shook his head as he heard for the first time, just what Dean had gone through. "You were playing poker, while I was in jail."

Dean grinned slightly; hands up in surrender he said, "Don't get pissy with me, Francis. I'm not the one that got you put in there, besides the guy refused to release you until the sheriff showed. And I sure as shit wasn't going to leave you there alone."

"So you told the Sheriff and his deputy that a woman broke Sam's heart, by sleeping with several other guys." Sara frowned at Dean's confirming nod. "So why do they think that I'm the heartbreaker?"

Dean had the grace to look embarrassed. "Uh, I might have described you to the sheriff, and in doing so he may have made the assumption that you and I, uh..."

As Dean's voice trailed off, Sara's face darkened. "You told him that you and I... I would never sleep with Sam, then turn around, and sleep with you... I mean that I wouldn't sleep with two brothers at the same time..." Sara practically snarled in the face of Dean and Sam's laughter. "I would never sleep with two guys at the same time, or well you know what I mean." Sara finally stopped talking simply because she couldn't be heard over the brother's guffaws. Tapping her foot impatiently she said, "Well laugh it up buckos, because I can't leave this room now."

Dean waved a hand as his laughter quickly turned into a hacking cough. As Sam pounded him on the back, Dean was glad to see that he was able to get his coughing under control. "We'll just say that you're someone else. The way gossip spreads in this town, they'll be lining up to apologize to you in no time." Dean headed into the bathroom, dropping a kiss on Sara's head as he passed.

Sam grinned at his brother's retreating back and said, "He looks like he's feeling better, who knows maybe our luck is finally turning around."

Sara laughed. "Maybe. Listen I'm going to go ask at the desk where the nearest store is and give Jack a bit of exercise. I'll be back in a half-hour."

Sam watched as Sara left the room, turning to sift through the assortment of clothing draped over every surface he found himself relaxing for the first time in days.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean sat on the edge of tub for a moment; he was feeling better but still pretty shaky. He hoped that a shower and some food would be enough to jump-start him again. Climbing into the shower, he allowed the hot spray to pepper his skin, the water pressure just this side of uncomfortable. Hands against the wall, Dean stood and allowed his chest and abdomen muscles relax. He hadn't coughed seriously since he'd woken up, and he was choosing to take that as a sign that he was on the mend.

Sighing softly he finally reached for the shampoo, after quickly lathering his hair he began rinsing it under the hot spray. It was then that the power shut off, and the water with it. Eyes full of soap, Dean reached out trying to push aside the shower curtain. As he did, his foot slipped and down he went, his head knocking the faucet as he fell with a pained grunt.

As Sam pulled on the same shirt he had been wearing for the last few days, he promised himself the first thing they would do today, would be to find the Impala. As much as he liked to give Dean a hard time in regards to the car, Sam wouldn't give it up for anything. He found himself missing not only his belongings, which were in it, but also the familiarity of it. That car and Dean had been the only real constants in his life. He only hoped that no one had stumbled across it, Sam figured if it had been towed, the sheriff would have been knocking down the door by now.

Sam finished dressing and moved about the room straightening up, an ear turned towards Dean in the shower. Sam was worried about just how weak his brother was, it was always hard to gauge just how bad off Dean was. His brother's pride wouldn't allow him to answer truthfully, when Sam questioned his health. In order to combat that, Sam had taken to automatically assuming that he was worse off than he claimed. Unfortunately, the reality was that Dean was sometimes thee or four times worse off than he claimed, which basically made it a crap shoot. Sam sighed and tossed a handful of his brother's clothe towards his bed.

As Sam moved to pack up his laptop the lights went out, finding himself once more in the dark, the blackout curtains of the motel only allowing the dimmest of light, he heard a thump and a groan. Barreling towards the bathroom, Sam's foot snagged on the corner of the bedspread and he found himself falling forward. No time to catch himself, his chin caught the corner of the table. Pain radiated up and through Sam's head, causing him to yell. Landing hard, he lay stunned for a moment on the rough carpet. Lying there for a moment, he forced himself to move his jaw back and forth despite the pain. At least he didn't manage to break it, he thought to himself as he heard the bathroom door open.

Dean had lain for a moment, pain radiating through his head. Content to just lie on the bottom of the tub, he'd been gingerly touching the gash on the back of his head, when he'd heard Sam's yell. Staggering to his feet at the sound of his brother in trouble, he had barely remembered to snag a towel off the rack. Moving as fast as his dizziness would allow, Dean practically launched himself out the bathroom door, well it was more a stagger, but he gave it his all. Unarmed and unsure of what he would find, Dean quickly scanned the room unable to find Sam.

"Dude, can you close the towel a little, that's more than I need to see"

Dean looked down and to the left and saw Sam, just gaining his feet. Blood dripped down his neck from a nasty looking cut just under his chin. At Sam's smart-ass remark, Dean leaned heavily against the doorframe, another cough raking through him. Unable to control it and now officially freezing Dean never noticed as Sam guided him into a chair.

As Dean began wavering on his feet, unable to control his coughing, Sam pushed him into a chair. Moving towards the nightstand, he grabbed a bottle of water and brought it back to Dean. In desperation, Sam tried to brace his brother's back, offering him some support.

Sara laughed at Jack's antics as the dog rolled and romped through the snow. Glancing about she estimated they had gotten nearly a foot of white powder. She had just come from the office and re-renting the room, she'd taken it for another two days. She hadn't' spoken to the boys much about the hunt, but she hoped it could be taken care of soon. A phone call earlier to her Mom had relieved any worries she had about leaving the kids. They'd been having a ball and had barely been able to stand taking the time away from their cousins to talk to her. However, there was a limit to how long she could go without being with them. Hand on the door to the room; she took a moment to throw a snowball for Jack. Turning, she opened the door.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked as Dean finally brought his coughing under control.

Dean leaned back, grateful for Sam's grip on his shoulder. He was light headed and spots kept invading his vision. Wrapping his fingers around Sam's wrist, he said, "You're bleeding on everything, Sam."

Sam grimaced as he tenderly touched the split in his chin. "Yeah well so are you brother, it's running down you back."

Dean reached a hand up to touch the goose egg on the back of his skull. "Hit the shower faucet, when the power went out." His eyes scanned the interior of the room and he felt a spike of panic jolt through himself. "Where's Sara."

"Right here, uh, do you two need me to leave you alone."

Sam whipped around so fast, it was a wonder his head didn't fly off. Rolling his eyes at Sara, he snapped, "Power's out again."

Sara moved into the room, toward the brothers. Swiping a towel from the floor, she draped it over Dean once more and took Sam's head in her hand. "What the hell happened, I leave you two alone for twenty minutes and come back to find you..." Sara stopped not really sure, what was going on. "Crap Sam, this looks like it'll need stitches."

Sara released Sam only to grab hold of Dean's head, turning it gently she found the lump that was sluggishly weeping blood. Laying a hand on Dean's freezing skin she cursed soundly. "Damn it, the lights were on in the office. I swear this room must be cursed." Grabbing a blanket off the bed, she draped it around Dean. Throwing open the blinds, she pushed Sam onto the other chair. As the weak winter sun filtered through the dirty front windows, she sighed deeply. Turning toward the boys, she moved to Sam first. "Shit, this would be much easier if the power was on."

Dean sat leaning weakly back in his chair, content to allow Sara to fuss over him and Sam. He surely was in no shape. Sharing a grin with Sam over Sara's sailor like vocabulary, he jumped to his feet when the lights suddenly came on.

Sam had to grin at Dean as Sara let loose with a curse foul enough to make a prison inmate blush like a little girl. The grin was wiped from his face though as the light popped on minutes after Sara's statement.

Sara was so intent on helping the brothers she never noticed the stillness that invaded them as the lights once again came on. Gathering a washcloth, she grabbed Sam's head and held it steady. Pressing the cloth to his cut, she applied pressure for a moment.

"Shit, Sam, do you think the room's cursed?" Dean asked his eyes shooting daggers.

Sam wrenched his head out of Sara's vise like grip. "It's possible, but who would have done it. Barely anyone even knows we're in this town."

Sara snorted and once again applied the cloth to Sam's chin. "You're kidding me right. I stopped in no less than four different stores last night and every one of them knew who you two were. Thanks to your unlawful incarceration and Tom here's..." Sara nodded toward Dean. "wild tale, you two are practically famous."

Sam shook his head, "I still don't get it though, I mean last night the lights came back on when Sara showed up. And again this morning same thing, so I don't understand why she..." Sam pulled away from Sara once more, his eyes suddenly wide he whispered, "Christo." Sam winced as her hand hit him up the back of the head. Grimacing, he tried not to flinch when Sara once again took his head in her hand.

"Christo, I swear. You're an ass, Sam. Who the hell else would I be, yeah, this is all part of my cosmic plan. Make Dean slip and bang his head in the shower, oh, the evil doings." Sara's voice literally dripped with sarcasm.

Dean stood clutching the blanket to him, grabbing a pair of shorts he slipped into them. Moving toward the bathroom intent on grabbing his clothes a strong hand suddenly pushed him back in the chair. Sara leaned over him; gently she tipped his head forward resting it against her arm. Prodding the lump on the back of his head, she wiped away a small bit of blood. Inhaling Sara's warm scent Dean found it hard to concentrate on Sam's words.

"Maybe its not the room, think about it Dean. It started when we came out of that house." Sam stood up and began pacing. Ticking off his fingers, he turned to Dean.

"Alright, so I was put in jail. You spent an entire night trying to get me released, which caused your cough to worsen. You forgot where you parked the Impala." Sam almost whispered the last not liking the look that came over Dean's face over the mention of his baby.

"Let's see, well next of course, the power and phones went out, leaving us with no way to contact anyone." Sam frowned in concentration. "No, I don't get it. I mean Sara showed up and everything was fine. I don't see how it could be a curse."

Sara released Dean, grabbing a shirt she handed it to him and began rooting around for his jeans. "But it wasn't, I mean you had a horrible night last night, Sam."

Dean shrugged his shirt on with a grimace at its ripe smell. "Yeah, you had the flat tire, lost the lug nuts in the snow, and cut your hand. I mean nothing major, but it did slow you down. And then this morning everything was fine, till Sara left the room."

"Maybe we're cursed," Sam said, turning to his brother.

Dean nodded and said, "Just us, could be that Sara's messing it up. I mean she's not cursed so all these stupid problems can't happen to her or by association to us when we're together."

Sam nodded "Yeah but who, Dean? No one knows why we're in town. Why curse us when we haven't been able to do any serious research on the house?"

Sara turned picking up her coat she said, "Maybe, that's the point. I mean when have you two ever turned away from a hunt, and yet you have been here for four days and have yet to get any farther. If I hadn't shown up you probably would have had to abandon the hunt for now."

"You mean that whatever did it doesn't want to hurt us, only keep us from that house?" Sam said as he caught the jacket that Sara flung at him.

Shrugging, Dean finished dressing, "Who knows but it's more than we had to go on earlier."

"Let's get some breakfast, find the car, and head back over to that house," Sara said over her shoulder as she headed towards the Jeep, Jack following by her side.

Dean watched her go and turned towards Sam "I don't want her in that house, Sam. I can't have her getting hurt."

Sam massaged the spot where she had hit him earlier and smiled. "Don't know that you'll be able to stop her, Dean, you know how fierce she is when someone she loves is in danger."

"I'll stop her; I'll just make her listen to reason," Dean said as he slowly made his way toward the Jeep, shoulders hunched against the pain in his chest.

Sam could not help the snort that escaped him as he watched his brother make his way to the car. If Dean had been in one piece, Sara would probably be willing to hang back, she wasn't a hunter after all and other than some rudimentary training by the Winchesters and Bobby she was pretty much a novice. However, with Dean being sick, Sam figured there was very little that his brother would be able to do to stop her. Grinning, it suddenly occurred to him that he would not want to trade places with Dean at that moment.

888

Dean barely repressed a snicker, when the waitress came to the table to take their order. The wide smile on her face had quickly changed to a frown when she caught sight of Sara tucked next to him. Dean smiled broadly, quickly trying to come up with some excuse as to who Sara was. The problem was, he really was not sure what he had told the Sheriff and Deputy in regards to Sam's cold-hearted girlfriend.

Sam saw the faint look of panic, as Dean struggled to come up with a story, to cover Sara's presence. Smiling broadly, Sam figured this was his chance to score a bit of payback, reading the waitress' name tag he said, "Morning, Annie, I'm Sam and this is my brother Tom and my sister Sara."

At the words sister, the waitress' face collapsed in contrition. Quickly she placed a smile on her face and smiled kindly at Sara. "Your sister, well isn't that wonderful."

Sara tried not to burst out laughing at the sight of Dean trying to burn a hole through Sam with the power of his gaze alone. Taking a moment to peruse the menu, she placed her order with the now helpful waitress.

Dean felt like strangling Sam, as he eased his arm away from Sara's shoulders. Struggling to remember if he had done anything that could be deemed, odd by the locals, like kissing his sister inappropriately. He glared at Sam with the promise of retribution. After placing his order, he snarled, "Payback's a bitch, Sam, just remember that."

Sam snorted in glee as Annie hurried back to them with coffee. After she'd served them a glance showed Annie, gossiping at the counter. Satisfied that Sara's reputation was once again on its way to being restored, Sam set his laptop on the table and lost himself in research.

Sara drank her coffee, her worried gaze returning repeatedly to Dean. Although, the cough medicine he had taken seemed to be helping, she knew that he really needed a good dose of antibiotics to wipe it out for good. She also knew that there was no chance of getting him to a doctor until the job was finished, and even then, it would be small miracle. Slipping her hand under the table, she rested it on his thigh, the solid feel of muscle a reminder of just how strong he was.

Sara was killing him, after placing her order she'd snuggled against his side. Far closer than any brother and sister should be. Then she had snuck her hand under the table and was tracing patterns on his leg. Clenching his muscle unintentionally as her hand wandered, he couldn't help the strained sound of his voice as he asked Sam, "So what'd you find?"

Sam glanced up at the sound of his brother's voice and frowned, Dean's forehead was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and he seemed to be clenching his jaw. A glance at Sara's downright wicked grin and Sam could not help but laugh. Apparently payback was something Sara understood, and at the moment she was intent on torturing Dean for using her description with the cops.

"Nothing new, a couple more references to Ida Greenway and her family's history. Apparently, her father was a rather well known eccentric. A bit of embarrassment to the town, I'm thinking that's why Ida was run out a few years ago," Sam said his eyes scanning the articles he had found.

Dean asked through clenched teeth, finally gripping Sara's hand in his, just before she managed to slide it any further up the inside of his thigh. "Any idea what Pops did to embarrass the town?"

Sara's smile suddenly disappeared as her hand was released, and she felt Dean's large hand on her own leg. Eyes wide she barely suppressed a yelp, as Dean continued talking to Sam, his hand wandering freely.

All of Dean's tension melted away as he turned the tables on Sara. "Maybe we should ask around, talk to the locals a bit."

All three glanced up as Annie approached three plates expertly balanced in her hands. Annie glanced at the young people in the booth, noticing the flushed cheeks of both Tom and Sara. "You too aren't looking too well; you should both have Dr. Booth check you out."

Sara's flush became even more pronounced as she shoved Dean's hand off her knee. "I'm fine, it's Tom here that hasn't been well."

Dean smiled grimly, knowing there was no way he was going to avoid a doctors visit. "So, Annie, you've lived here for a long time?"

Annie waved a hand, dropping down onto the bench seat next to Sam; she picked up a piece of his toast and said, "All my life."

Sam smiled a bit and moved away from Annie's substantial form. "I was checking out the town's history and I came across an interesting article. Mentioning a man named Albert Greenway."

Annie's face lit up as she settled in for a nice long chat. Spreading jelly on her toast, she said, "Oh, now that's a story the historical society doesn't like to talk about."

Sam exchanged glances with 'Tom' and Sara, urging Annie to continue.

"See old man Greenway was something like a forth generation Greenway, he inherited a big old house in town. His ancestors actually founded the town, but it's said that each generation of Greenway's became more and more eccentric. Well by the time the house became Al's he was near crazy."

"Crazy how?" Sam asked picking up a piece of toast before Annie had a chance to finish it all.

"He claimed he had mystical powers, that's how he put it. Claimed he was going to live forever, that he could make himself disappear and reappear at will. A real nut job you know. Anyway, most people just took it with a grain of salt, but there were those that felt he was bad luck. Rumors started flying, and then when he up and disappeared the town supervisors decided it was bad for the town's image. They revoked the tax reprieve the family had always enjoyed and poor Ida lost the house. What a shame too that woman was a bit soft in the head, if you know what I mean, but she was a real sweetie at heart." Annie rose to her feet, wiping her hands on her apron as she did. "Dr. Booth's over on 4th and Main, make sure your brother sees him today. Walking pneumonia's nothing to sneeze over."

"Huh, so we've got the undiscovered body of Albert Greenway to find and we should find out where Ida went. Maybe it's not a poltergeist after all, I mean if Al died in the house then maybe he's still there?" Sam said leaning back with a sigh, as he watched Annie return to the counter.

Dean nodded his agreement. "Well first things first, we've gotta find the car. Then we'll head over to the house and do a bit of digging."

Sam and Sara both exchanged glances. "Sure, Dean," was Sara's reply. Her intention, though, was to make sure the first place they looked for the Impala was on 4th and Main.


	7. Chapter 7

Ida sat in a patch of weak morning sunshine, a shawl wrapped around her frail shoulders. Setting the old rocking chair into motion, she gazed down at the snow-covered street below. This room had been her bedroom for 72 years and Ida still spent the majority of her time there. Until of course, they began showing up. Anger filled her as she recalled the people that had come into her home, making changes, and even calling it their own. The Greenways had built this house and they would be the only ones to live in it as long as Ida had any say in the matter.

Ida became serene as she thought of her father, he had made her a promise and like all his promises he had kept it. It had been on his deathbed, as Ida had sat holding his hand, tears coursing down her cheeks.

"Ida, this place is your responsibility now. You must protect it, it's your birthright." Albert Greenway had struggled to speak the words, as his body began to wear down, finally betraying the once strong man.

"I'm scared, Papa, how can I care for the house?" Ida had asked, afraid that she would now have to go out into the world. She had spent the first sixty-three years of her life inside that house, and the thought of having to leave; to get a job to support herself or even simply to buy supplies terrified her.

Albert had smiled reassuringly. "Have faith, child, you will remain here and you will be taken care of. Never fear, Ida, I have told you before, as long as you do as you were told, I'll be leaving this body, but I will not be gone from your side."

Ida nodded, as she watched her father take his final breath, she had found herself doubting him and his promise. Her faith in him had been completely restored a week later when she had found a box of goods on the back stoop, from that moment on a box had showed up regularly. Ida had no doubts now. She had found that she was able to carry on without him by her side.

Then the letter had come, the letter stating that Ida had to leave. That the house was to be auctioned off for failure to pay taxes. It was then that she had again become afraid. Hiding from the men that came to bang on her door, and the letters that poured in by the fistful, she became a true recluse. She had not stepped foot outside, except to get her supplies since then.

Eventually, the knocking had stopped. Only to be replaced with people coming into her house unannounced. Ida had stayed in the shadows, not a difficult thing in this house, and had gone unseen by all.

It had been a small miracle that saved her from being spotted the first time, and by the second, she had been expecting the intervention. However, the two young men had thrown her off. She still fretted over what they had wanted from her house. Smiling, she continued to rock, she had taken care of them and they would spend the rest of their lives regretting stepping into her house.

Ida tilted her head slightly as if listening to something only she could hear. Continuing to rock, she spoke aloud, "took care of them, just like you would have wanted me to...Nope, they won't be back, I'm sure...I know, I know I promised." Falling silent at last, Ida rocked content in the knowledge that her house was once again safe.

888

"Get out of the car, Dean." Sam pleaded with his stubborn brother, hating the whiny sound of his voice. It's just he'd been trying to talk his brother out of the Jeep for the last twenty minutes and his patience had fled long ago.

By unspoken agreement, Sara had driven straight to the doctor's office. However, once Dean had seen where they were going he had refused to get out of the car. Claiming that the missing Impala should be their first priority, he had refused to see the doctor. Sam nearly growled in frustration as he, once again, listed at least fifty reasons why, Dean needed medical care.

Sam realized that his tirade had been a waste of time, when Dean had simply put his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. Sam was at his wits end; short of carrying his brother into the office, he had no other ideas. Finally, in desperation he had appealed to Sara.

"My turn Sam?" Sara said as she sat behind the wheel of the Jeep, idly scratching Jacks big head. At Sam's resigned sigh, Sara had simply grinned. Leaning towards Dean, she whispered in his ear, lightly caressing the older hunter's thigh.

Sam watched in astonishment, as a moment later, Dean swung himself down from the Jeep a frown on his face. He had marched up the sidewalk shoulders hunched against the biting cold wind.

"What'd you say?"

Sara shrugged "Do you really want to know, Sam?" She said with a roguish wink and a smile. "Let's just say I bribed him and leave it at that. Now, do you need me to go with you? I was going to go look for the car, while you get him settled."

Sam could not help but grin, nodding he said "Go, look for the car, I've got this." Sam turned and followed his brother up the sidewalk. He had just reached Dean's side, when his foot hit an icy patch. Sliding, he grabbed for the first thing at hand, his brother's shoulder. As they both landed hard on the sidewalk, Sam couldn't refrain from cursing a blue streak. He looked down at his once dry jeans, and cursed once more.

Dean stood up slowly his face a thundercloud of emotion, growling at his baby brother he wiped ineffectually at his wet clothes. "Great, Sam, next time you want to practice couple's ice skating count me out."

"Maybe, I ought to stick with you guys," Sara said, as she hurried up behind them. Sara found herself hard pressed not to snicker at the sight of the two mighty hunters brought low by what appeared to be a tiny patch of ice.

888

"Get off me, I'm fine," Dean growled as he once again, pushed away the liver spotted, hand that held a stethoscope.

Grey bushy eyebrows, lowered over faded blue eyes. "Now you listen here, young man, I've been tending to people for the past forty years, and by god, I am going to have a listen to those lungs regardless of what you think."

Engaging in a staring contest with the older man, Dean lost by default when he began coughing and wasn't able to stop. Waving a hand at Sam to ensure his brother stayed back, Dean finally nodded in defeat.

Doctor Booth placed the round metal disc on Dean's chest, listening intently as he drew a couple shallow breaths. Finally, after listening to both his chest and his back, the doctor straightened. Dean slid his shirt back on and asked, "So what's the verdict, Doc, just a cold right."

Dr. Booth rolled his eyes at the stubborn, young man. He'd had some tough nuts, in his long and varied career but he was beginning to think that this young man took the prize. Gesturing to both him and his brother, he made his way toward the waiting room. "Actually it's not as bad as it could have been. I'll go ahead and write you a script, that should break up the congestion in your lungs. I would like to see you in a week though, to make sure it's working. Keep taking the expectorant for now, that way as the amoxicillin does its job, your cough will get more productive. Steam always helps; plenty of hot showers will help ease any discomfort, as will sleeping elevated as much as you can."

Dean nodded, listening with only have an ear confident, that Sam would all but take notes. Glancing at an array of black and white, photos that hung on the wall, his eye was caught by one in particular. Smiling, he pointed towards the photo. "So, this is you right Doc? Great house," Dean said exchanging meaningful glances with Sara and Sam.

Sam turned, brows drawn down, at Dean's interruption of the Doctor's instructions. That was when he caught a glimpse of the house featured in the center most frame. A slight grin played over his features at the people that stood in front. Most prominent was the doctor and his somewhat less bushy eyebrows.

"Ah yes, that's the Greenway house. Beautiful isn't it, quite a mainstay here in Greenway." The doctor grinned slyly. "Haunted you know, at least that's what the youth of today claim. It's been unoccupied for many a year now, poor Ida Greenway lost possession back in 2000. Ever since it has simply sat, falling apart, it's real shame. The people of this town should be ashamed for driving that poor woman away." Doctor Booth looked up from writing Dean's prescription with a frown on his face. "Many people called her a witch, bah... as if. No she was just a poor old woman, slightly off you know, unable to cope with the realities of living."

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance "A witch, huh, now why would people say such a terrible thing?" Dean asked his gaze focused on the doctor.

"Just gossip, you know, the woman refused to leave the house, especially after her father died. She claimed that he was still alive, even after the old man was put in the ground. Not surprising really, for better or worse he was her whole world" The doctor gazed in surprise at the three young people standing there hanging on his every word.

Sara asked, "Oh, that's really sad...so her father was definitely dead, huh?"

The doctor frowned a bit at Sara's question, handing Sam the prescription he answered, "He was dying from colon cancer, I diagnosed him myself. He refused all treatment, kept saying he wasn't afraid of death that it wouldn't stop him. Anyway, that's why it was so terrible to make her leave, for better of worse that house meant the world to her." The doctor headed back towards the exam room, glancing over his shoulder he said, "Make sure you make a follow-up appointment with my secretary for next week."

Dean nodded at the doctor assuring him he would indeed make a follow-up appointment. Waiting until the doctor had left the room; he turned and headed for the exit. Ignoring the calls from the doc's receptionist, he continued outside with no intention of coming back.

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Sara walked out of the pharmacy intently reading the information that had come with Dean's medication. Glancing up, she saw him and his brother sitting on a park bench near the top of a large hill. Smiling, she took a moment to watch Dean throw snowballs in the air for Jack. Sam laughed in delight as the big dog sprang up again and again, vainly trying to catch one. Sara took note of the food, lying spread out on the table surface. Throwing a questioning glance at Dean, she handed him his medicine.

Dean shrugged, "I couldn't see leaving him in the car again, and he's not welcome inside the diner, so Sam and I figured, Chinese here in the sun. The table's all but dried and he's having a ball."

Sara smiled as Jack, ran toward her growling and dancing in happiness. "Thanks" she said dropping a kiss on Dean's cheek. As she settled onto the bench, she heard a voice behind her.

"Hey, can we pet your dog?" Sara turned to see a group of kids, ages ranging from seven to ten eagerly watching her dog.

"You bet, just be warned you're liable to get slobbered on." Sara laughed when Jack, as if to prove her point shook his head, long strands of half-frozen saliva spraying everyone. The kids went ballistic over the dog and he could not have been happier to play in the snow with him.

Content for the moment the three of them filled their plates, eating eagerly. Finally, Sam came up for air, pushing his empty plate away with a groan. "Okay, so we know this has something to do with Ida, the question is what she is? We need to know what we're up against; a witch is not something to mess with."

"If she is a witch what can you guys do?" Sara asked, as she pushed away her plate suddenly not interested in the food.

Dean shrugged. "It depends, sometimes they have an item of power. Destroy the item and they loose their powers, sometimes they're simply to far gone. In which case, a silver bullet to the heart works. The night we first met you, we had gone after a witch. We found out she was over one hundred and fifty years old and she was killing children, sacrificing them to ensure her own longevity."

Sara shivered in the afternoon air, focusing on the kids, she never noticed the young girl that approached them.

"Ida's not a witch. She's just a bit...off," The girl stated firmly.

Sara turned and smiled at the teenage girl. "Of course she's not, do you know her?"

"My dad makes delivers to her place, I used to ride along. He'd let me visit with her a bit, in between deliveries. I haven't seen her in a long time though." The girl glanced towards the kids that were playing. Pointing out one of the more rambunctious boys she rolled her eyes, "Kid brother."

Sam studied the girl for a moment, "You mean you're Dad used to make deliveries to the place, before the house was sold."

The girl shook her head, glancing nervously around, she lowered her voice, "I wasn't supposed to say anything. He still delivers out there; a check comes every month paying for it. So, Dad delivers it, I'm not supposed to tell anyone though

Dean smiled gently, "We won't tell, so who pays for it? Does your Dad have any idea?"

"No, though he says as long as the money comes in he's going to make the delivery. Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. I've got to get my brother, see ya." With a wave, the girl was gone, gathering up her wayward brother.

Dean turned toward the others and grinned, "So old Ida is still living in that house, people start invading her space, so she arranges a couple accidents to get rid of them."

Sam frowned, "I don't know Dean, I mean when we were there the place reeked of an angry spirit."

Sara called Jack to her side, gathering up supplies she offered, "Let's check it out."

Dean turned on a dime to face Sara, reaching out he grabbed hold of her shoulders. "You're not going anywhere, Sara. Sam and I'll check into the house and you'll stay at the hotel safe and sound."

Sara smiled at Dean for a moment, before she turned and headed toward the jeep. Dean glanced at Sam, eyebrow raised. "Do you think it worked?"

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's laughter. "Yeah, well she's not getting around me this time. There's no way I'm letting her in that house."

Sam simply headed for the car, still chuckling. "Yeah, like there was no way you were going to go to the doctor's right, Dean?"

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As the three of them made their way around the side of the house, Dean found himself still fuming over Sara's presence. Sam was also on his shit list, after all his brother had done nothing to back Dean up. Sitting in the back seat, he had done nothing but smirk as Sara had deftly manipulated Dean. Crap, Dean had even known what she was doing, and he'd fallen for it. Shaking his head, he once again promised himself that nothing would happen to her. Glancing down at Jack, he felt relieved that the dog would also be there to help keep an eye on her.


	8. Chapter 8

Ida was in the kitchen making herself an afternoon snack when she heard the back door opening. Shaking in fear, she quickly cleaned up the counter top. Scurrying towards the broom closet, she ducked inside and listened intently at the door. Her brow furrowed as she realized the voices seemed familiar. Determined to see who had invaded her home once more, Ida quickly fled the closet.

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"Sara, stick close to me, I won't have you getting hurt and whatever it is, it's definitely got one nasty temper." Dean walked, shotgun in hand lecturing to Sara as he moved into the kitchen. A flash of movement caught his eye and he headed over to a closet door, motioning to Sam he turned the knob and threw open the door in one smooth movement.

Dean found himself staring into an empty broom closet, he could have sworn that he'd seen something sneak in there. Turning toward, Sara he was about to resume his lecture when he saw a heavy ceramic pot flying through the air toward Sam. Calling out a warning, Dean grabbed Sara's wrist and drug her out of the room.

At Dean's warning Sam ducked, the pot shattering against the wall just inches from where he'd been. Following his brother and Sara, Sam breathed a sigh of relief once they were out of the kitchen. After all, he figured, there shouldn't be as much ammo for the ghost in the living room.

Sara called out to Jack, and was relieved when the dog followed without hesitation. She had never seen him quit so upset, his lips were back in a silent snarl, and his eyes were darting incessantly as if to try and cover as much space as possible. Glancing towards Dean, she drew comfort from his steely-eyed gaze. Backing toward the living room, she found herself surprised to see just how well kept the room was, clean and neat with no dust in sight. Frowning, she began moving about the room, glancing at the pictures that still hung on the walls and the personal items that graced the tables and bookshelves. Moving toward one bookshelf in particular, she began reading the titles on the shelf. Waving a hand toward, Dean acknowledging his reminder to be cautious; Sara reached out and pulled a volume off the shelf.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief as Sammy darted into the relative safety of the living room, at least here the worst that could be thrown would be a knickknack or two. Calling a warning over his shoulder towards Sara, he headed for a set of steps, glancing up at the old wood staircase. He found himself glad that they were in such good shape, normally rotting steps were a occupational hazard for the Winchesters. Motioning to Sam to follow, Dean set foot on the first step.

"Uh Dean?"

The sound of Sam's voice stopped Dean's ascent. Turning in frustration, Dean sighed dramatically, "It'd be nice, Sam, if we didn't give the spirit a heads up, okay?" Dean was about to turn and resume his climb when he noticed that Sam's brows were drawn together in a frown. "What?" he asked as the last of his patience fled. He still wasn't feeling his best, regardless of the medication he'd taken earlier and this house was the last place he wanted to be.

"Where's Sara?" Sam asked not a little surprised that his brother had yet to notice she was not in the room.

Dean lifted his arm, swinging it towards the bookcase where Sara was. "Over there..." Dean actually did a scan of the room, not quit believing that she was gone. "Sam, she was right there, standing by the shelf." That's when Dean also noticed something else. "Where's, Jack?"

Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances, moving to the shelf both brothers began examining the area. "Where the hell'd she go?" Dean asked as he dropped to the ground, desperate for any sign of how she might have disappeared.

Sam stood for a moment gathering his thoughts, "I was in the kitchen and she didn't come that way, there's no where else she could have gone, except the dining room and she would have had to walk past you."

"So what're you telling me, Sam, she disappeared?" Dean snorted in frustration, his eyes still scanning the room for any telltale signs. Doing a double take Dean leaned forward, his hand reaching out, he ran his fingers over a skid mark that marred the wood floor. Studying the floor intently for a moment, Dean launched to his feet frantically grabbing books off the shelf. Heedless of the mess and noise Dean continued pulling down handfuls of books.

"Jackpot," Dean exclaimed as he grabbed a book from the shelf only to find that it tilted forward but could not be removed. Pulling the book fully forward, Dean felt a surge of hope as the bookcase swung out towards him, revealing a narrow hallway.

"Holy Shit," Sam exclaimed as he took in the secret passage. Exchanging glances, the brothers entered the dim passage.

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Sara had been so surprised, by the passage she had instinctively stepped inside it. Unfortunately, before she had the chance to turn and alert Dean to the bookcase, it had shut behind her. Trapping her in the hall, ten frantic moments later and she had given up looking for the trigger to open it once more. Placing a hand on Jack's wide back, she took courage from the steady dog by her side. At first she'd been concerned by the lack of light, now however, once her eyes had adjusted to the dimness she found she could see well enough.

Walking forward, one hand on Jack and one trailing the wall, Sara found herself wishing she'd sent Bobby to find the boys. Its not that she didn't want to help the Winchesters, it was simply a case of finding herself caught in a waking nightmare of her children being orphaned Grabbing what little courage she had, Sara continued until her hand snagged on the edge of a doorframe. Running her hands over the frame, she nearly stumbled to the ground, as the door opened of its own accord. Tumbling suddenly into a small rectangular shaped room, she noted there were three doors, one on each wall.

Sara's first thought was panic over her lack of weapon, followed quickly by the realization that Jack wasn't growling, in fact the big dog was wagging his tail in greeting. Sara studied the woman before her surprised by her neat appearance and youthful looking face. Though she had to be in her seventies, her face was so round that it seemed to offset her obvious age. Short and plump, she had short, curly, grey hair, her cheeks were round, and her mouth put Sara in mind of a tiny rosebud. She stood in a clean, cotton print dress, her face a study in surprise, and she kept darting nervous glances toward the now dancing Saint Bernard.

Sara found herself relaxing in the face of Jack's obvious acceptance, smiling slightly she asked, "Are you Ida?"

Ida found herself panicking at the sight of the young woman in front of her, backing up a step she muttered, "Yes."

Sara saw the woman glance once again at Jack, with fear in her eyes. Dropping down on one knee next to him, she said simply, "He's friendly. That's his happy dance, you could pet him if you wanted to."

Ida's eyes softened as she glanced at the dog "I used to have a dog, but he bit me so Papa drowned him. His name was Pockets, he was a good dog."

It took Sara a moment to understand just what Ida had said, her low voice coupled with the cadence of her speech made her words hard to decipher. "Pockets, huh, that is a great name. Well this big guy's name is Jack, he's a snow dog."

Ida reached out a hesitant hand, lightly touching the dog's satiny soft ears. It took only moments before she was on the ground in front of the dog, making a fuss over the animal.

Sara smiled as Ida and Jack made each other's acquaintance. "Ida, do you live here?"

Ida nodded her tiny eyes sparkling, "This is my house, I live here with my Papa."

Sara nodded once again, figuring if Ida's Papa was still alive, he had to be no less than ninety years old. "Is he here with you all the time?" Sara asked needing information, but not willing to upset the obviously disturbed woman.

Ida replied hesitatingly. "No, he's not here all the time. He usually stays away unless others come."

Sara nodded. "Well, Ida, some friends of mine are here with me. They don't want to hurt you, but I'm afraid your Papa may hurt them by accident. Is there some way to stop him, to ask him not to hurt them?"

Ida shook her head sadness overtaking her features. "No Papa has bad temper. He doesn't like strangers in the house."

"Well then, I need to warn my friends, can you take me out of here?" Sara hoped that the tiny woman would be willing to help.

Smiling slyly, Ida said, "I can if you'll let me keep petting your doggy."

"Of course you can. Just show me the way out.

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"Slow down, Dean, you're liable to miss something," Sam called out as Dean barreled through the secret opening and down the passage.

Dean glanced back at Sam, slowing only marginally. "I have to find her Sam," He said his voice full of pain.

Sam caught Dean's eye and nodded reassuringly, "We'll find her Dean, but we can't afford to miss something because we rushed."

Knowing that his brother was right, Dean slowed his pace even more, his hand trailing along the hallway wall feeling for any openings that might indicate other rooms. He had only been in the passenge a matter of moments when his hand passed over a joint. Indicating his intentions to Sam, Dean began feeling for some sort of trigger.

Sam lifted his gun, his barrel sighted over Dean's head towards the door in front of them. As the door swung open, Sam quickly swept past Dean. Eyes scanning the room, Sam found himself in a small room, with three doors. There was a door located in the center of each wall. Shaking his head at Dean as his brother followed him in, Sam indicated the doors.

"How're we going to guess which one she took?" Dean asked slamming a hand against the wall. His eyes scanning the room for any indication Sara had come this way.

Turning in surprise at Sam's shout of triumph, Dean hurried over to his brother's side. He couldn't help but exchange a smile with Sam, when he noticed a bunch of hairs that had been caught in one doorframe. Long and white, the hairs were unmistakably Jacks. "Ah, way to go fur-face" Dean quickly began feeling for the trigger.

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"Here you go," Ida said as she held open a door and waited for Sara to exit. Ida smiled broadly at the woman and dog she'd found wandering her house. Truly happy for the first time in years, Ida couldn't help but touch her new friend on the shoulder.

Sara felt the touch and turned toward the poor woman at her side smiling gently. "Ida, you need to help me find my friends. They won't hurt you."

Ida shook her head, fear evident in her gaze. "I don't like them; they're trying to take my house."

As Sara emerged from the secret corridor she found herself in the mop closet, she quickly pushed open the door and walked into the kitchen. The room looked as if a maelstrom had passed through, broken crockery and silverware littered the floor. Even the cabinets hadn't escaped unharmed, some of the doors now hung crookedly or were flung open wide.

Turning to Ida, Sara once again encouraged her to meet the Winchesters. As she talked, she couldn't help but notice how agitated the old woman was becoming. The only warning Sara had that Ida's 'Papa' had come back was a low growl from Jack. The next came in the form of the door to the mop closet slamming full force into her, knocking her to the ground.

"Please, Papa, stop she's my friend don't hurt her," Ida cried, her voice cracking in panic as she stood before Sara, talking to thin air.

Sara shook her head desperately trying to shake off the dizziness that assailed her senses. Reaching up to grab Jack, she pulled herself up by his collar, gaining her feet she stood warily behind Ida, hoping that the older woman would be able to call off the spirit.

A roaring noise began, and Jacks low growl turned to a deep and booming bark. "Ida, we have to get out of here," Sara said grabbing Ida's hand and pulling her from the room, back into the living room.

Ida dragged her feet in protest. "No, he'll stop, I'll tell him and he'll stop."

At this point though, as Sara once again dodged yet another frying pan, she found herself doubting the older woman. Heading for the stairs, Sara tugged Ida up after her. As she reached the upstairs banister, she paused for a moment, hoping that the spirit would loose interest. Holding tight to Ida's hand Sara waited to see what would happen.

Ida shook her hand, trying to free it from Sara's strong grasp. She knew that if she just explained to her father that Sara was a friend he would stop trying to drive her away. Standing on the landing looking down at the living room below, Ida had no warning, as the young woman beside her suddenly toppled head first over the banister. Throwing out her arm, Ida cried out as Sara's full weight pulled at the old woman's shoulder.

Sara hadn't stood a chance at defending herself. One moment her feet were planted firmly on the floor, her hand gripping Ida's and the next she hung from the other side of the banister. Ida's hand in her own, the only thing stopping her from falling to her death. Sara struggled to pull herself up, but a relentless wind had sprung up and it was battering her something fierce. Staring up into Ida's wild eyes, Sara pleaded with the older woman not to drop her.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam and Dean moved down the darkened hallway, looking for any sign that Sara had passed this way. Dean paused for a moment, feeling Sam stop just behind him. Holding up a hand to stop his brother from questioning him, he listened intently. As he placed the noise he was hearing, he took off at a dead run down the narrow hall. Bursting through the door in front of him, he found himself in the mop closet. Gesturing to Sam they both waited, listening to the spirit once again, dismantling the kitchen. Dean was content for the moment, willing to wait out the spirit's tantrum. That is until he heard Sara's panicked scream.

Plowing through the door, he ran through the kitchen, its suddenly quiet state barely registering with the now panicked hunter. Glancing up as he entered the living room, he felt his heart leave his chest at the sight of Sara being dangled over a banister by an old lady. Dean ran for the stairs only to be stopped by an ottoman that was tossed into him by a fierce wind. Grunting in pain, tried scrambling to his feet, and instead was again hit, this time by a lamp.

Sam saw Dean go down; hesitating only a moment, he ignored his brother and headed for Sara. Struggling against the wind, he held his arms over his head, trying to block the porcelain figurines and books that were pelting him.

Sara could feel the bones in Ida's hands grinding, the old woman held on though. Pleading with her father over and over, Ida refused to let go. Sara watched her, a sense of detachment flowing through her. It was almost as if it was happening to someone else, as if it wasn't her that was dangling over that banister but someone else. It was only as she heard Dean bellow her name, in pain that she noticed her hand was slowly slipping. Trying to strengthen her grip she began struggling, no longer willing to leave her life in the fickle hands of fate.

The only sound Dean could hear above the wind was Jack, his bark fierce, as he tried to defend his mistress from something unseen. Dean rolled, ducking a crystal decanter, as he came to his feet he realized he'd been neatly herded toward the windows. He was even farther from the stairs then when he had begun. Snarling, he once again began fighting his way to Sara.

Sara knew that the old woman could no longer keep hold. She didn't want to admit it but she was pretty sure that she'd felt a couple bones snap in Ida's hand. Glancing around, trying to find any other option, Sara spotted Jack. The dog stood, his head pushed through the banister as far as it would go, he was barking madly. Long strings of saliva rained down upon the wooden floor beneath him.

Sara felt her hand slip even farther, finally unable to see any alternative she swung herself up, her right hand groping for the familiar feeling of red nylon. Grasping it in desperation, Sara let go of Ida's hand and found herself dropping a bit. Glancing up she stared into a pair of big brown eyes. A warm tongue dashed out to lick, Sara's face. Sara dared not breathe her entire focus on the dog collar in her hand. Gripping it tightly she watched for any sign that it was slipping. The red color was roughly two inches wide and had a large silver buckle. Normally at home, Jack didn't wear a collar, there was simply no reason for it. Sara had a large property and the dog, preferred the company of his family to roaming.

Tonight though, as she found herself hanging on by a literal thread she was glad she'd made him wear one. Hanging there, her hand gripping that collar, Jacks breath hot in her face, she found herself glad that she'd resisted buying a smaller dog. After all it was only due to his size and strength that she hadn't simply pulled the dog through the banister.

Dean's heart stopped as he watched Sara's hand let go of the crazy lady. He was sure she was about to fall to her death when he saw her, slick as shit, reach out and grab for Jack's collar. Closing his eyes for a moment, Dean suddenly had the urge to vomit. Breathing deeply he pushed away the urge and continued towards the stairs.

Sam would continue to doubt what he had seen for the rest of his life. Sara now dangled from the nylon collar that was secured around Jack's neck. Fighting his way forward, Sam tried desperately to get below Sara.

Ida felt the tears coursing down her cheeks. She didn't understand, her father had always taken care of her but now, he was hurting innocent people. Hurting her friend, she had tried her best to hold onto the young woman's hand but had been unable to stop her from slipping. Staring down at the woman that still dangled, one hand wrapped around the dog's collar, Ida called to her father once again. Pleading, she ignored the pain in her hand and wrist; climbing up on the banister, she called to her father over and over again. Leaning forward she said, "Papa, please I don't want to be alone anymore. Please leave my friend alone, help her Papa, please." Again and again, Ida called out to the spirit of her father, begging him to show mercy for the young woman that was being battered by the winds.

Ida tipped farther forward, her foot loosing purchase as she began falling over the banister in panic. A sudden gust pushed her all the way over, her rotund body hit the ground with a sickening thud. As the old woman hit the ground, a screeching sound seemed to reverberate through the house, shaking the very foundation.

For a moment, the storm eased up allowing Sam to reach the floor beneath Sara moments after Ida hit the ground. Making a conscience effort not to look at the body, he stared up at Sara. Noting that Dean was only halfway up the stairs Sam said, "Drop Sara, Drop, and I'll catch you."

Sara couldn't hold on any longer, her fingers and forearm were burning with the strain. Locking gazes with Dean, she saw him nod in encouragement. Smiling slightly she let go, finding herself unable to even scream.

Dean was only half-way up the steps when he saw Sara's hand slipping. Knowing that he was going to be too late, he wanted to snarl at the fates. It was only as Sam slid under Sara and urged her to let go, that Dean felt a bit of hope. Meeting Sara's eyes he nodded, knowing that Sam would do everything he could to catch her as she landed. Watching, as she fell, he held his breath as Sam stepped beneath her neatly catching her. It was only as Sam struggled with his balance that he lost his footing and he and Sara fell to the ground, a pile of arms and legs.

Sara felt Sam's arms wrap around her tight and couldn't believe she'd dodged yet another bullet. Then Sam lost his balance and Sara found herself falling once again, though from a much lower height. As she hit the ground, she heard more than felt a snapping sound as her collarbone snapped. The pain came a moment later, causing her to yell.

Sam felt the break as he landed on top of Sara, trying desperately to prevent the majority of his weight from landing on her he rolled to the side. As Dean dropped next to him, he raised his eyes to meet his brother's crazed stare. Smiling slightly he said, "She's heavier than she looks."

Sara heard the comment through a haze of pain, grimacing, she fisted her hand and punched Sam's shoulder. Looking up she found a pair of familiar hazel eyes staring down at her. Smiling softly she said, "Hey, can you take me home."

Dean grinned and nodded, "You got it, babe, but first there's a few things we need to take care of. Do you think you'd be willing to wait outside now?"

Sara grimaced as Jack bounded down the stairs; dropping to the floor next to her, he wiggled his way up to her shoulder and dropped his big head on her chest. Nodding she said, "Well, since you asked so nicely."

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Dean moved silently, eyes peeled, he was acutely aware of his surroundings. Hearing a noise, he stalked his prey, his boots making no sound. Closer and closer he came, until he was nearly upon his quarry. About to pounce, he winced as Sam's voice called out. "Dean, help please."

With a sigh, Dean slid out of his hiding place. Half tempted to leave his brother in a lurch he found that he was unable to ignore the pleading tremor that wracked Sam's words.

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Sam could no longer hold back the panic that was gripping him. Standing suddenly, he raced for the door, wrenching it open he called out to Dean, hoping that his brother was able to answer. Moving away from the door, Sam glanced cautiously around the corner; spotting his tormentor, he quickly pulled his head back, hoping that he had avoided detection.

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Dean came up the stairs at a run, bursting through the doorway; he rolled his eyes in disgust at the sight of Sam peeking around the corner. Clearing his throat, Dean folded his arms and waited.

Sam turned his relief at his big brother's presence palpable. "Thank God, Dean. I can't do it anymore." Sam shuddered theatrically.

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, dismissing his pleading. "Sam, I don't see what the problem is. We did rock, paper, scissors and you lost, fair and square." Dean leaned closer to Sam, his finely tuned eyes taking in every aspect of his younger brother. Suddenly, unable to deny what he was seeing Dean blurted out, "Dude, you're wearing lipstick."

Sam practically growled as he wiped a hand across his lips smearing his Berry, Berry lipstick. "I know..." Sam dragged the words out as if Dean was simply to dumb to understand. Holding up a hand, he pointed toward his long tanned fingers.

Squinting Dean said, "What is that nail polish?" Unable to hold back the laughter any longer Dean began. A deep rumbling sound erupted him, laughing so hard; he set off a coughing fit he actually groped around for a kitchen chair and sat.

"It's not frickin' funny, Dean, I mean nail polish for god's sake. Yeah, a couple of times I let Jess put that clear crap on my toes, you know just to make her happy, but this is just above and beyond, Dude," Sam said his voice nearly cracking.

At the mention of Jess and Sam's toenails, Dean's eyebrows practically shot off his forehead. "You let her what?" he asked a distasteful grimace on his face. "See that is the kind of whacked out shit kids in college get roped into doing. How could you, Sammy?"

Sam flung out a hand in defense "It's called keeping a girl happy, Dean."

"You're weak, Sam, weak. I would never allow any woman to have that much influence over me. No way." Dean said his voice ringing with conviction.

Sam's eyes actually bulged in response to Dean's words. "You have got to be kidding me, right. It's your relationship that landed us here in the first place, Dean. I mean come on you signed us up to care for Sara's kids for the next week, so she can recover in peace. You're a real tough guy, alright, weren't you just downstairs in the basement playing hide and go seek."

Dean stood and said, "No, Sammy, I don't play 'hide and seek'" Dean said making air quotes with his fingers. "I was working on their training."

Sam crossed his arms and stared down at his brother, "Fine then, I'll continue their training and you can handle the Beast."

Dean sighed dramatically, "Fine, Sammy, let me show you how a man handles a problem like this." Girding himself for the upcoming confrontation Dean stepped into the living room, only to be confronted with a tiny little vision in pink.

Sitting on a large towel, the little girl looked up at Dean with stars in her huge blue eyes. Face lighting up she chanted, " Dee Dee, come I make you pretty." Firmly patting the floor beside her, the little girl sent Dean an angelic smile.

Dean hunkered down next to Jessie and smiled, his heart melting at the way she leaned up, lips pursed for a kiss. Dean obliged careful to wipe off any lipstick that may have found its way to his lips.

Pulling her little bag full of makeup towards her Jessie began babbling happily, as she chose several containers. "Dee pretty." Brandishing a tiny tube of lipstick, Jess leaned toward Dean.

Dean held up a hand, earning a smear of pink across the back of it in return. "Hold on there sweetie, Dean is already pretty. I don't want any makeup, how about we watch a movie instead." Dean used his most persuasive voice, hoping to encourage the girl to abandon her current pursuit.

Staring at Dean for a moment the three-year-old smiled, "Watch movie soon. I make Dee pretty now." Again, she leaned forward intent on smearing lipstick on Dean.

"Wow, wow, there princess. Dean's already pretty, no need to add to it," he said giving her his best grin.

Sam leaned against the doorframe, smiling as he watched his big brother face off against, the little girl that had been lovingly nicknamed 'the Beast' by Bobby. Smiling even wider, he did his best to smother a laugh at the little girl as she stared down Dean.

Dean watched, trying in vain to ignore Sam's snicker, as Jess stared at him for a moment. He found himself suddenly nearing panic as the little girls bottom lip began trembling. A moment later, her blue eyes began to fill with tears. The first tear teetered on the edge of her long blond lashes for the longest moment before it spilled over, and rolled down her face.

Dean gritted his teeth, over the past two days; he had come to realize that Jess cried whenever someone denied her. Without fail it worked, the only one seemingly immune to the little blond girl's whiles was her mother. Trying to ignore the tears, he said firmly, "No Jess, I'll watch a movie but no makeup."

At this statement, Jess lifted her chin and began screaming at the top of her voice. Repeatedly she belted out a jumble of sentences, most of them ending in earsplitting shrieks. Trying his best to ignore his brother's laughter he soon found that he hand an audience. Jimmy and Michael alerted to their sisters upset by her cries had come running from the basement. Sam burst out laughing as he saw the camouflage paint that both boys sported on their faces.

Jess took one look and the tears cut off with not even a sniffle. Smiling widely she pointed and said, "Mikey, Himmy...pretty."

Dean glanced from the boys to Jess and sighed in resignation, turning towards Jim he said "hey buddy, grab the paint we used off the counter. Your sister wants to be an army Ranger."

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Sara heard the caterwauling and sighed wearily, turning toward Bobby she said, "Let's head downstairs, it sounds like Sam and Dean need a hand."

Bobby's shaggy beard was unable to hide his grin, "Let them stew for a minute, now tell me what happened after you fell."

Sara leaned back as she began reciting the events that leaded up to her convalescence. "Actually it was touch and go for about an hour. I was near deaf by shotgun blasts as the boys, tried to keep Greenway busy. Finally, we found his body, laid out in the basement. Luckily, the grave was pretty shallow, it was Jack that found him. I swear he wrecked the house and the boys though before they were able to burn the body."

Bobby nodded. "And the curse?"

Sara smiled broadly, "It was the weirdest thing."

_Sighing in relief Sam watched as the last of Greenway's bones began to burn. Leaving the fire to Dean and Sara, he called Jack to his side, to begin searching the house._

_"Sam, where you going." Dean asked, holding back a cough._

_Sam waved at him encouraging him to stay, Sara sat by Dean's side and appeared to be practically falling asleep now that the danger had passed. "I'm going back up to Ida's room. I think I saw her alter and I want to see what her curse involved."_

_Dean nodded at his brother, pulling Sara carefully towards him, he adjusted the towel that he had fastened into a sling for her. "You doing okay?"_

_Sara nodded tiredly, "Is your job always this much fun?"_

_Dean actually smiled, "Actually this went pretty well."_

_Sara rolled her eyes and allowed Dean to pull her to her feet. Watching as he shoveled dirt over the corpse, she asked "What'll happen to Ida?"_

_Dean shook his head, "Sam or I'll call it in, and say we heard a noise. They'll investigate and find her. Hopefully, she'll rest in peace if not we'll be back."_

_Sara nodded "Should we go see what Sammy's dug up, I'm pretty well fed up with bad luck."_

_888_

_"Sammy, you up here man?" Dean called out, leading Sara towards Ida's bedroom._

_Sam turned to face Dean and Sara a grin tugging the edges of his lips as he faced them. "Well Ida defiantly wanted us gone from here." Sam indicated a pile of herbs and other items that lay on a nightstand._

_Dean moved over towards the burnt remains and pushed a finger through the pile. Finally, he glanced up at Sam in question. Seeing Sam's confirming nod, Dean smiled. "Shit"_

_"Yeah, you got that right." Turning towards Sara, he held up a finger. "It's a mixture of lavender, garlic, thyme and I think a hint of mint mixed in. I'm not sure what she thought she was doing but basically all she managed was to make a nice roast seasoning."_

Sara shared a laugh with Bobby, "Yeah, so that was it. Fun town, Greenway, no poltergeist, no witch, and no curse, all in all I'm not sure that I'm in any rush to go back."

Sara winced as she struggled to sit up, grateful for the hand Bobby placed on her back. Gaining her feet, she headed out of her room and towards the stairs.

"Hey Sara, one more thing though. Where was the Impala? Dean had lost it right." Bobby asked as he followed Sara down the stairs.

Sara laughed outright, stopping only when the pain in her shoulder became too much to bear. "Oh, we found it finally."

_"Let's go Sam; I don't want to leave Sara any longer than necessary." Dean jogged up the street eyes peeled for the familiar lines of his black baby._

_Sam walked at Dean's side, slogging through the snow, his shoes squelching with every step. "Come on Dean you must have some idea of where you left it."_

_Dean found himself too embarrassed to admit that he had no clue where he had left the car, other than he had walked to the Greenway house. Leaving the residential streets behind Dean and Sam continued searching, as they entered the small town, Sam squinted down the street. Trying to focus on something black that gleamed in a parking lot down the way. Hitting Dean on the shoulder Sam indicated the parking lot and picked up his pace._

_As he neared, he couldn't help the laughter that near choked him. Holding his sides, he swiped at the tears that ran down his face. Slapping a hand against his brother's back, he began laughing anew at the sight before him._

_Dean stared at the parking lot in front of him unable to hid his own grin at the sight that greeted him. There shining in the early morning sun was a parking lot full of brightly colored VW bug's. Colors ranging from lime green and sunshine yellow, to sky blue and even a couple silvers ones gleamed up at them. And there, in the middle of the all, sunlight glinting off the chrome, and black paint shining was the Impala. It was like finding a black licorice jellybean amongst a handful of sweet tasting Skittles._

_"Very incognito, Dean, I'm surprised we were even able to find it." Sam snickered his eyes still leaking the occasional tear._

_Dean reached out smacking Sam up the back of the head, "Show some respect."_

Bobby laughed the whole way down the stairs, his deep rumble becoming an outright fit as he followed Sara into the living room. As Dean and Sam glanced up from where they sat on the floor, all Bobby could see was an array of green, brown, and beige paint smeared all over their faces.

Shaking his head, he grinned at the younger man's discomfort until he felt a small hand tugging at his jeans. Glancing down into a pair of blue eyes, surrounded by camouflage paint, he had a sudden urge to run, far and fast. Unfortunately, looking into those eyes was like a deer looking into the headlights of an oncoming semi.

"Bobby, I make you pretty?"

The End


End file.
